I Never Said I Was A Victim Of Circumstance
by TheFauxMe
Summary: Post Season 3, AU. Blaine's entire world shifts on its axis when he finds a basket on his doorstep. NOT an Mpreg.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - Okay, so, this is my first fanfiction under this pen name (and, oh my God, since when does FFN make you wait 2 days to post fics when you sign up? When I first started, over ten years ago, it was so much easier...but I digress...) And this will also be my first ever Glee fic. I've had this saved on my iPad (ah, 1st world problems...) for a while now but I'm still not sold on the title...**

**Anyhow, a few notes:**

**This WILL be a Plaine fic. I don't want any Klainers getting all upset at me, so I'm stating it now. I love Klaine. I do. But it's not what I'm writing right now.**

**It does contain a lot of my head canon (in a world where Blaine and Puck became close after the boys mutilated?...oops..._reinvented_ My Fair Lady last season) but most of it will be justified in the story.**

**The characters will probably be a bit OOC. Because this is an AU, you sort of expect that, but I wanted to warn you anyway.**

**And I will probably, in later chapters, ride the 'M' rating pretty hard. Just sayin'.**

**Disclaimer- I don't own anything. Technically, I don't even own the iPad I'm typing this on (my husband does). But, if Mr Murphy or anyone else in the Glee world would like to come meet me and discuss it in person, I'd be happy to clear my schedule to arrange that. *grin***

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Blaine stared, transfixed, _horrified_ at the object on his front doorstep. The doorbell had chimed a mere thirty seconds before he'd swung the door open, his usual welcoming smile morphing into an expression of confusion, his chirpy "Hi!" dying on the tip of his tongue. He'd been met with empty space. Sighing and assuming some local brats were doing a ring-and-run, he'd stepped back and prepared to shut the door before an odd sound directed his gaze to the ground.

In front of his feet lay a basket. An honest-to-God Moses basket, complete with swaddled infant and "Congratulations, Baby-Daddy" note pinned to the pink fleece blanket. The tiny creature contained within squirmed and glared up at him, mewling sounds emitting from rosebud lips. Some part of Blaine knew that, if left completely unattended, the baby would probably start crying and screaming, but he was in the middle of an out-of-body experience, his heart beating at ten times its usual rate, his mind stuck on an endless cycle of '_No freaking way. This isn't happening. Am I being Punk'd? No freaking way_.'

He was Seventeen, fresh from a rough breakup, had just started his Senior year of High-School, and was completely, irrevocably, _irrefutably_ gay. A baby was not in his plans. Not now, possibly not ever.

The infant made another sound, this one louder and more demanding than its previous whimperings, and it shook Blaine into action. He lunged forward, grabbing the basket by its handle and bracing it from underneath with his other hand as he raced down the front path, swinging his gaze left and right, scanning the empty street for any sign of the person who had left it behind. There was, of course, nothing to be found. They'd most likely traveled by car and would have had plenty of time to make a safe getaway during his shocked stupor.

Shaken by the jerky movements of Blaine's run down the path, the baby started to cry in earnest, its tiny little face scrunched up and reddening by the second as it worked itself from lusty cries into complete hysteria.

"Shit," he cursed, then winced, realising the faux pas of swearing in front of an innocent baby. "Uh, I mean, shoot..." He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself. He didn't have an audience, who the hell cared if he swore? It wasn't as if the kid he was carrying was suddenly going to tell on him. He looked down into the squalling monster's face and sighed again, realising that his next course of action was to take the basket inside and investigate this entire situation further, because surely there had to be some sort of misunderstanding.

Maybe this particular delivery was meant for a different address? _Or for Cooper,_ he mused. Big Brother had moved to California less than a year ago; it was entirely possible that he'd forgotten to leave a forwarding address to his -ahem- lady friends. And he was a notorious man-whore...the fact that this hadn't happened earlier was actually more surprising than it happening at all.

Decided that the wailing banshee was most likely his niece, Blaine's features softened and he offered her a soothing smile. "It's okay, little one," he said, suddenly much calmer about the entire scenario, "We'll get this all sorted out. We'll call Cooper and he can fly out and deal with you, and I can go back to moping about Kurt's inability to hold a long-distance relationship while trying to work out why I even bothered taking AP calculus when I hate math."

The crying only got louder as he crossed the threshold to his family's home, echoing down empty hallways, reverberating off marble tiles. He shut the door behind him and strode purposefully to the kitchen, setting the basket on the counter and, with a deep, fortifying breath, reaching inside. Having never held a baby before, he was surprised by how solid the tiny tyke was as he nestled her into the crook of his right arm, making sure her head was well and truly supported. Her wailing ceased immediately and she blinked up at him in surprise.

"Well, hey there!" he cooed, a grin blossoming across his lips at his success to calm her so quickly. He took in her petite little features -the tufts of dark, curled hair, the darkness of her eyes, the set of her strong jaw- and tried to find some semblance of his brother in them. There really wasn't any that he could see; Cooper's face was narrow and angular rather than wide and squared, his eyes a piercing blue, his hair sandy-toned, thin and straight (a perfect metaphor for the man himself, really). _Still, this baby could resemble her mother,_ Blaine realised, before making the vague connection that he and Cooper looked nothing alike and still shared a genetic pallet. In fact, this baby kind of resembled _him_...which would still be possible if Cooper was her Dad because of the Anderson genes. "Aren't you a pretty little girl?"

The tiny nose wrinkled as she regarded him with obvious suspicion. Or gas.

Determined to prevent another crying jag, Blaine bounced gently, shifting from side to side like a demented, baby-wielding jack-in-the-box. He mentally fist pumped in victory when the infant yawned and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep in his embrace. Placing her gently back into the basket (and holding his breath when she snuffled and shifted with the change in position), he turned his attention to the note stuck to the pink fleece blanket. With shaking hands, he reached out and unfastened the safety pin that held it in place, unfolding it with trepidation. Once he read this there would be no going back. Cooper would be a father, he would be an uncle, and their lives would be forever changed.

"_Dear Blaine_," he read aloud, "_I know this may come as a surprise_ -no, really?- _but meet your daughter. Her name is_ - wait, what?!" His eyes frantically scanned back over the fourteen words that had actually penetrated his brain. _Dear __**Blaine**__. Your daughter._ The letter was addressed to him, not Cooper! This baby belonged to him! His mouth went dry.

"My...?" Foggy memories, pushed right back to the depths of his consciousness, started to resurface. There had been alcohol (naturally, _every_ stupid decision he'd ever made had involved alcohol) and loud music, and kissing and...and..._breasts_. He remembered the breasts with an involuntary shudder, even though he'd apparently enjoyed them at the time (he knew the way biology worked - there wouldn't _be_ a baby if he hadn't somewhat enjoyed the experience). Why he'd been at that party he couldn't quite recall (something about Wes and Warbler solidarity), and -try as he might- he couldn't picture the face that had accompanied the breasts and the warm, wet channel that had engulfed him.

Another shudder. His fingers curled even tighter around the letter in his hand, creasing it with great force.

He'd known, of course, when he'd awoken alone, naked and sticky the next morning with the hangover to end all hangovers, that he'd done _something_ monumental, but he'd never pushed himself to remember, and nothing had ever surfaced, and his relationship with Kurt had continued to flourish...and then he'd simply forgotten it had even happened. And now there was a baby. His baby. _Oh, God_... He felt sick.

He looked back down at the letter but the text was blurred. He was startled to realise that it was because he was crying: fat tears clouding his vision before they rolled down his cheeks, eventually landing on his t-shirt with a dull pitter-patter. A sob tore from his throat and he followed it with another, and another again, until he was curled up on the kitchen floor, clutching the crumpled, tear-splotched letter to his chest, bawling like...well, like a _baby_.

For her part, the _actual_ baby slept through his breakdown like a trouper, not even rousing when he pulled himself to his feet and lumbered towards the kitchen sink, splashing cold water over his face in a bid to shock himself back to reality. His parents wouldn't be home from Columbus until tomorrow, and there was no way in hell that he was calling them and notifying them of their newfound Grandparent status over the phone.

His breathing hitched. Grandparents. He'd made his barely Fifty year old father a Grandfather. His mother, at the tender age of Fourty-Eight, was going to kill him. They'd had Cooper when she was Twenty, and both boys had been lectured countless times about the difficulties of being young parents. Blaine had scoffed; there was no reason to think he'd need to worry about that being an issue. Kids, for him, were always going to be well-planned. He was gay, accidental pregnancies were an impossibility.

Or so he'd thought.

One more look over at the basket had him hyperventilating again, and before he knew it he was slinking down to the floor, his back pressed against the smooth cupboard doors, uncontrollable sobs taking him over once more. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, trying to stem the tears, the rational part of his brain telling him that crying wasn't going to solve anything, but his anxiety won out. And so he cried, mourning a youth that, until fifteen minutes earlier, he'd not known he was going to have to let go.

"Yo, Anderson," Puck's voice suddenly carried down the hall, getting louder as he approached. Blaine realised, belatedly, that he'd invited some of the guys over for pizza and CoD. The thought of having to explain _this_ to them, to acknowledge it was real and actually happening and voice it out loud to another person (or, worse still, a group of people) caused him to cry harder. Puck's voice loomed ever closer. "We rang the bell but you didn't answer, and the door was unlocked so..." he stopped abruptly. "Blaine? What the fuck, dude? Are you okay?"

Noah Puckerman was kneeling in front of him within milliseconds of entering the kitchen, his strong hands pulling at Blaine's, tearing them away from his eyes. Blaine quickly averted his gaze from the older boy's, tears still streaming down his face, sobs still wracking his smaller frame. "Blaine..." Puck breathed, his tone softer than Blaine had ever imagined possible, "Hey, dude, what's wrong? Are you hurt? C'mon, man, talk to me."

Blaine shook his head, the words refusing to form, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment of being caught like this by one of the guys.

"Uh, Puck..." Sam's voice sounded from somewhere above them, laced with equal parts concern and confusion. "You're, uh, gonna wanna see this..."

"Oh, God..." Blaine breathed, slamming his eyes shut, knowing that Sam had noticed the baby (where he assumed Puck had missed her in his initial race to come to Blaine's assistance).

Puck was torn between his concern for Blaine and his natural curiosity to follow Sam's instruction. With one last glance at the broken boy on the floor, he sat back on his haunches and pushed back up into a standing position, facing the back of a large basket on the kitchen counter. He arched an eyebrow at Sam, whose face had gone pale with shock, some sort of letter held tightly in his hand. "'Sup?" he asked, when the blond boy gaped between the piece of paper and the basket.

With shaking hands, Sam reached forward and slowly spun the basket around. Puck sucked in a deep breath. "Holy shit," he choked out, staring at a sleeping infant. "What the actual fuck, dude?" At his feet, Blaine curled in on himself, the sobs he'd managed to stifle restarting at Puck's question. Sam placed the letter on the counter and pushed it forward.

"Kid belongs to Blaine," the blond supplied. "Did _not_ see that one coming."

Puck's eyes widened almost comically. "No fucking way," he looked down at the baby, seeing the resemblance instantly, and then down at the panicked teen on the floor. "Shit," he breathed again, "Blaine, it's gonna be okay..." He was back on his knees in an instant, pulling Blaine into his arms, not even stopping to think about the action.

He'd been a teenage parent; he remembered all too well the cloying, bubbling panic of it all. Though he'd had eight months' notice and the sad realisation that Beth would never actually be his to contend with, he was still the only person who could even hold a candle to what Blaine was going through right then. The new Dad, for his part, latched on to Puck like a limpet, gripping him tightly, crying into his shirt, accepting the stronger boy's comfort like a drowning man would do a lifeline.

"What do I do?" he asked as his tears finally subsided, his voice muffled by Puck's muscular shoulder. In any other circumstance, being held intimately against a body like Noah Puckerman's would be a dream come true, but Blaine was oblivious to anything other than his current turmoil. "I don't know what to do. I...I'm gay, for fuck's sake. This wasn't supposed to happen. I...I don't even know her name!"

"Emily," Sam supplied from his seat at the kitchen table, where neither of the other boys could see him. "Emily Rose Anderson. That's what the letter said."

Blaine swallowed and pulled back from his friend's embrace, pulling himself to his feet shakily. Noah's hand was at his back, a silent show of support. After washing his face for the second time that morning, Blaine shook his head and concentrated on a spot on the wall, unable to face his friends or his -God help him- daughter. "No," he eventually said. "I mean, yeah, I didn't know her name either...but the girl. The woman that I..." he laughed mirthlessly. He couldn't even _say_ it. "Emily's mother. I don't know her name. God, I was so drunk that night...I...I didn't even remember that there'd _been_ a woman." But now he _did_, and...urgh, he wished he didn't.

Puck's hand, still on his back, gave him a comforting squeeze. He hated himself for leaning in to the contact. This was not an issue these boys needed to deal with. This was his burden alone to bear. He'd made his bed, now he had to sleep in it. And every other cliche under the sun, as well.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright," Puck repeated when he noticed the tense set of Blaine's jaw. "Did you read the letter? We're gonna take this one step at a time, okay?"

That got Blaine's attention. He snapped his head back to face Puck, his eyes boring holes into the hazel ones of his friend. "We?" he echoed, "There is no 'we' in this, Puck. I screwed up. This is my mess to clean up. You...you and Sam should just go. I...I'm not some charity case."

"No," Puck drew the word out slowly, keeping his eyes glued to Blaine's. "You're not. You're our friend, Blaine. And friends stick together through stuff like this. Pizza and Xbox are all well and good, but friends don't mean shit if they don't stick around for the rough times." He ran a hand over his freshly shaved head, silently mourning the loss of his mohawk. "You're gonna need a support system, Anderson, and that's what we are. So, did you read the letter?"

Blaine shook his head. "I got as far as 'Dear Blaine, meet your daughter' and then, well...that was sort of where you came in." He was proud of himself for not breaking down again as he finally vocalised his new reality. He cast a fleeting glance towards the basket on the counter, his throat constricting painfully. "What do I do?"

"Read the letter," Puck suggested softly, pulling his phone out and sending a text to Artie and Joe to call off their CoD plans. The less people Blaine had hovering right now, the better.

Blaine picked the paper back up, now crumpled and smeared from too much handling, and braced himself. He read it over twice, the words barely sinking in. The girl -Sarah Brown, a college friend of Wes' sister's- recounted the events of the party, explained tracking him down through Facebook photo tags once she realised she was pregnant, apologised for her inability to tell him (despite numerous attempts) and, ultimately, handed over her parental rights with the request that he not attempt to contact her ever (_ever_) again as per her parents' orders. All other relevant paperwork (birth certificate, medical records etc) could be found inside the basket, underneath the currently slumbering baby. With a wavering voice, he told Puck what was written, knowing that Sam had already read it all. He tried not to panic.

The baby -Emily, he reminded himself- started to cry, causing all three boys to jump. Blaine stood rooted to the spot, paralysed by his anxiety. With a sigh, Puck turned and gently scooped the baby up and into his arms, murmuring gently at her. Her howls increased and he paced the floor, bouncing her gently. "Dude, I think she needs to be changed," he said when the baby continued to scream.

Sam stood, holding his hand out for the keys to Puck's truck. "I got it. I'll get some formula, too." It felt good to finally be useful. "I'll be back in, like, fifteen minutes, tops."

Noah nodded at him, "Thanks, dude." He continued to rock the baby, trying to soothe her through her obvious discomfort, sending concerned glances towards his friend. "She's pretty tiny," he observed, not-so-subtly attempting to draw Blaine into conversation, "about as small as Beth was when she was born." He ignored the pang he felt as he mentioned his own baby girl. Shelby had moved to Cleveland, way beyond his current reach. He still got emails and photos, but it hurt not having his daughter at his fingertips. Still, he couldn't have afforded to give her the life she deserved. As much as he hated Quinn's decision, he understood and accepted it. It just took a long time to get to that point. "How old is she?" When the younger boy didn't answer, he sighed and snapped, nerves frazzled from her high-pitched wails and his morose thoughts of Beth. "Blaine! Come on, I get that this isn't what you expected out of life, but it's happening. Get with the program. This kid needs you to man up and take an interest."

That did the trick. Blaine jerked back into focus, shooting him an apologetic wince. "I'm sorry, Puck. I..."

With his left hand, Puck offered a vague dismissal of the apology. "I get it. Believe me, I get it. You can have another meltdown later. I'm not goin' anywhere. But you need to start accepting that this is real. You don't have the privilege of a few months' advanced notice, dude. You gotta be Daddy now."

Blaine delved into the basket and emerged with a plastic sleeve of paperwork. He flipped through the packet, eyes scanning for the vital information. "She's...she's wow...eight days old. I..." he shook his head, overwhelmed. Eight days ago his life had changed and he hadn't even known. "She's _so_ young..." And suddenly he was furious. "How could anyone just _dump_ her and run?! What if I wasn't home? What if I didn't hear the doorbell?" Fear was tugging at his heart. God only knew what might have happened to his daughter if he hadn't found her so quickly.

He blinked. _His_ daughter. It was getting easier to think.

"This Sarah Brown girl is lucky she hasn't left any contact details, otherwise I'd be on my way there right now to wring her neck!" Blaine started pacing the length of the kitchen while Puck looked on, stunned by the complete one-eighty in his demeanor. "I mean, yeah, okay, nobody wants to be a teen parent, but she left an eight day old baby alone on a doorstep without any proof that she would be okay! Who does that? It's so stupid, and irresponsible and...and..." he ran out of steam, coming to a final heartbreaking conclusion. "She doesn't care about her. I mean, she _abandoned_ her without making sure she'd be okay. She...she relinquished all of her rights and just...walked away without looking back. She doesn't care. Oh my God..."

"Blaine..."

Tear-filled golden-brown eyes met hazel. "I'm all this baby has left. I...I...I can't get rid of her, too. I couldn't..."

Puck crossed the room, wrapping Blaine in a one-armed hug, gently pressing the screaming baby against him. "You're wrong about one thing, bro," he said, smirking as Blaine kept his eyes glued on the squirming pink-clad bundle. "You're not the only person she's got left. I said it before; I'm here. Sam's here. The entire fucking Glee club -past and present members all included- will be here. Your brother, too." He didn't mention Blaine's parents. Chances were, the older Andersons weren't going to be too pleased with this latest revelation. He knew that Blaine's Mom was all about appearances, while Blaine's Dad had been distant ever since Blaine's coming out; these things he'd learned over the summer, when he had started hanging out with the younger teen in a bid to cheer him up over Kurt's abrupt move to New York (and then, a few weeks later, Kurt's inevitable decision to end the relationship).

Blaine nodded and swallowed against a fresh round of tears, reaching out to stroke Emily's tiny, scrunched up cheek. "I...I'm a Dad," he muttered, terrified all over again. "I have a kid. A daughter. Jesus," he breathed. "I...Can I?"

Puck handed the baby over, all kicking legs and thrashing arms, and quickly pulled his phone back out to take a few sneaky pics of the moment. He knew that Blaine would no doubt kill him when he found out, but would appreciate it in a few years. _Years_. Christ, this was actually happening. They stood without speaking for a few more minutes, the wails of the baby piercing what would otherwise be a tense silence. Sam came racing into the kitchen soon after, two paper grocery bags wedged under his arms.

"So, I got diapers and wipes and formula and a bottle and a couple of onesies and this really cute teddy bear, 'cause every kid needs a first teddy and-" he stopped short, realising that Blaine was the one with the baby. He shot Puck a pleased smile and a nod of approval.

Puck fished around in the bags, emerging triumphant with a diaper, the wipes and baby powder. "Go, uh, get a towel," he instructed Sam, who complied quickly. The towel was spread out on the kitchen bench, the other necessary supplies beside it. "Blaine...kinda need the baby for the next part."

Blaine's cheeks flushed and he put her down gently. "I've never..." he confessed, gesturing at the assorted baby paraphernalia.

Puck chuckled. "Me neither, 'til Beth. Shelby let me babysit a few times...I'm totally a pro now." He unclipped the pink onesie and freed the tiny legs, one of his large hands splayed across the little belly. "Watch and learn, boys." He made fast work of the entire procedure, pausing, after fastening the tabs on the clean diaper, to blow a raspberry across the pale tummy because that was just habit for him. Because of her age, she didn't giggle like Beth had, but she did stare at him with wide eyes devoid of tears. He popped her feet back into the sleeper and did up the clasps with a smile. "There now, all done."

Blaine and Sam stared at him in awe.

"What?" he asked, fighting the urge to fold his arms defensively. "She was just wet, dudes. Wait til you gotta deal with a poop explosion." He shuddered. "Not fun."

Blaine reached for the now clean and quiet baby and cuddled her to his chest. "Thank you, Noah," he said softly. "For everything." He looked to Sam. "And you, too, Sam. How much do I owe you for all of this?"

Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly. "You think I'm gonna make you pay for a few baby essentials? Nah, dude. Just...can I hold her?"

"Sure," Blaine passed her across to the blond and found himself smiling at the picture of the jock cradling a tiny bundle of pink. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and found Puck putting his phone away.

"You totally just took a photo, didn't you?"

"What?" Noah attempted nonchalance. "No. Sexting a MILF. You know how it is."

Blaine arched an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, _sure_..."

"Well, how'm I supposed to know, Anderson?" Puck accompanied his question with a sly smile. "You're a baby-daddy. You did it with one chick..." he trailed off with a shrug.

Blaine shuddered. "Definitely gay, Puck. I won't be repeating that experience." He looked over to his daughter and sighed. "Or possibly any other sexual experiences ever again. I mean, what gay guys are gonna want to be with a teen Dad?"

Puck laughed and shook his head. "Of all the things you're worried about, _that_ tops your list? You're more like the Puckster than I thought!"

Flushing, Blaine gave him a shove. "Can it, Puckerman."

"Uh...guys..." Sam looked over at them helplessly as Emily started to whimper and squirm. "I think she's hungry."

Puck clamped a hand down on Blaine's shoulder and pushed him forward. "Time to learn, Blainers."

Prepping the formula was pretty easy, all things considered. Blaine was pleased with his efforts, and completely enamoured by the way his baby girl took to the proffered bottle, snuffling and suckling like the food was going to disappear if she didn't chug it right that second. She'd drained the bottle (which Puck had shown him how to sterilize properly) within a few minutes, and Puck instructed him on how to burp her over his shoulder, making sure there was a towel there for any spit-up. Afterwards, she settled back into his arms with heavily-lidded eyes, her tiny fingers fisting into his shirt as she fought the sandman's claim.

"She's gorgeous..." he found himself saying, watching as her perfect little lashes fanned out against alabaster cheeks. "Oh my God, I love her." He blinked back tears for the nth time that day. How was it even possible to love something -someone- so much, so fast? How could her mother just walk away from this small bundle of utter perfection? Didn't she love her just as much, if not more so? "We're gonna be okay, baby girl," he told her. "We'll be just fine."

Certainly, there was the cost of her living expenses to think of, plus furniture and toys, and daycare and outings, but he'd do anything to make sure that she wanted for nothing. He met Puck's eyes across the kitchen table and nodded at the knowing smile directed his way.

"So..." Sam said, cutting the two teen parents from their respective musings, "I think a morning like this one deserves a bit of a reward. Like...Pizza and violent video games?"

Blaine grinned and nodded his assent, following the other boys up to his room. He laid his daughter down in the middle of his bed, blocking her in with pillows, then set up his Xbox. _One step at a time_, he reminded himself as he cast a look back at his bed, his phone pressed to his ear as he waited for Joe's Pizzeria to pick up. _I can do this_.

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**A/N - Reviews are love. Liked it? Hated it? Leave a review. It'll inspire me to continue. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - Wow. So many followers! So many favourites! Thanks for your attention guys. From the few reviews I received, the consensus was generally positive, and I thank you guys especially for your feedback. :) I don't usually reply to reviews very often, but, as I can't help myself when it comes to talking about Glee in any capacity (and only three people stopped to say anything), I think I can manage a couple of responses for you. *grin***

**Oh, but before I do, the title is my favourite line from Billy Joel's **_**'MyLife'**_**. The story is actually saved under the title 'Emily', but I wanted something a bit more...**_**Glee**_**. So, technically, I don't own the title, either... **

_**laurajanerowles**_**: Thank you for being my first review for this story! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter. I, too, dislike the OC, but she was just an empty womb to me. At this point she's gone and never coming back. I have other dramas planned for our boys. Bwahahahahah!**

**_meatbunlover_: Yes. It will be Plaine. I hope you'll give it a shot anyway? As I said in my a/n last chapter, I love Klaine. I ship them like crazy...but this story hit me like a Mack truck and Kurt just wasn't right for the plot I had planned. I adore him, though, and don't plan on vilifying him or hurting him.**

**_VitaAmoreRiso_: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter, and I hope the rest lives up to your expectations! Sadly, yes, there was no other way around writing it for the timeline I wanted, so Blaine did cheat on Kurt. Sigh. It's an issue that will be covered in due time (ie- when Kurt inevitably finds out), but I'll try to handle it realistically (or as realistically as I can given how out of character the action was in the first place). I love Kurt, and I know the situation is going to be hard for him to handle, but I'll try to aim for a happy ending for everyone. **

**With regards to Season 4 canon & characters, I'm not entirely sure what I want to do. After seeing episode 2, I'm kinda leaning towards including them (which will mean rewriting chapter 4...) but I'll be changing the Puck/Jake thing a bit, what with Puck not being in LA in my head canon or this story. I'd love to hear/read your thoughts on this!**

**And now...on with the show!**

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Blaine sat in his car with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, tears coursing down his cheeks, disbelief and panic pumping through his veins. Emily was in the backseat, strapped in illegally (and, worse, probably not safely) in the same basket she'd arrived in the day before, crying loudly.

"They kicked me out." Blaine said aloud, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his parents had reacted so poorly to his daughter's existence. "They kicked me out."

He'd never imagined that they'd do something so drastic. He'd known they'd be upset, angry even, but the cold dismissal had taken him completely by surprise. He'd been given ten minutes to gather his belongings and make himself scarce before they called the authorities and had him removed. He wasn't certain they could even do that, but, not wanting to tempt fate or possibly lose custody of his daughter, he'd scrambled up the stairs, thrown together as many bundles of clothes as possible, added his laptop, photo albums and guitar, and tossed them all in the trunk of his station wagon (a hand-me-down from his maternal Grandfather, God rest his soul). With his phone and wallet in his pocket, he'd grabbed his daughter's basket, fastened it into the back seat as best he could, and driven away without so much as a goodbye to his parents.

He made a mental note to never _ever_ put Emily in the same position, no matter what circumstances she found herself in. He loved her too much to have her suffer under his own machinations. Did his parents not feel the same way about him?

But now, parked in the nearly empty lot of a playground near McKinley, he had no idea what the next step was. Ordinarily, he'd go to the Hummell residence, but, since the breakup, he wasn't certain he was even welcome. Plus, he hadn't told anyone else about Emily, bar Puck and Sam, because he'd wanted his family to know first. And _that _had worked out fabulously, hadn't it?

His father had yelled, naturally. The elder Anderson man had ranted and raved and then declared that gay boys didn't accidentally father children. Despite the fact that he had said those very same words upon discovering that Emily was his, Blaine had bristled and snapped back at his father. He'd told the man that he'd been drinking (and he knew that admitting it was a stupid thing to do) and that he'd quite possibly wanted to make absolutely certain that he was gay because he _knew _that his sexual orientation made him a disappointment in his Dad's eyes. (He figured this was as good an excuse for his momentary change of orientation as any.) His father had shot back an angry agreement, quite possibly using a few homophobic slurs, and then, after taking a calming breath, coldly told him to pack his bags and get out.

His mother had agreed with her husband's judgement, barely casting her nine day old Granddaughter a second glance.

A tapping at his window jerked him back to reality and he was met with Noah's concerned gaze for the second time in as many days. He rolled down the window with a sigh, knowing that he looked like a wreck. Puck took one look at the back seat, furrowed his brow, and then flicked his gaze back to his friend.

"They kicked me out," Blaine admitted quietly. "They wanted me to get rid of her. I said no...It, well, it went badly."

Puck sighed, running his hand over his head and nodded. "Then you're coming home with me, Anderson." He tried to raise the mood with a wry smirk. "Bet you've been wanting to hear me say those words for _years_."

The comment had the desired effect, making Blaine scoff and roll his eyes.

"Just lemme get my sister, then I'll follow you. You remember the way to Ma's, right?"

Blaine nodded and then they were off, pulling up at the Puckerman household ten minutes later. Noah's truck parked behind his car, effectively blocking his escape route if things went poorly and he decided to bolt. "It's gonna be okay," Puck told him, placing his hand on the small of his back and guiding him up the garden path, his little sister having already run ahead of them while he picked Emily up out of her basket. "Ma loves you, remember?"

"She's met me maybe three times."

"And she thought you were, and I'm quoting here, 'Such a nice boy, Noah.'" he mimicked his mother with eerie precision.

"Yeah, but that was before." Blaine shook his head. "Now I've got a baby..."

"So you're a nice boy with a baby," came the retort before Puck swung the door open, shouting, "Ma! We're home and we've got company!"

Ruth Puckerman emerged from a room off the living room -possibly the laundry- with a towel slung over her shoulder. She had a welcoming smile and an easy-going demeanor that made her impossible not to like. She set her gaze first on Noah and then on Blaine, her smile dimming slightly as she took in the newborn cradled against his chest. She swiveled back to her son. "What have you done now?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "This one's all Blaine, Ma, I swear."

She seemed taken by surprise. "But I thought he was-"

"Gay?" Blaine cut in, feeling incredibly awkward, but realising that he would be having this discussion with people for years to come. "Yes Ma'am. But...I...uh...there was a party..." He toed the frayed welcome mat. "I had no idea until yesterday."

"His parents kicked him out," Puck supplied, his hand still spread out on Blaine's lower back for comfort and support. "He's got nowhere else to go, Ma."

She softened into a maternal smile and sighed. "And you're prepared to share your room with him and a newborn?"

Blaine's eyes widened. He'd sort of expected to crash on the couch for a few days, but Ruth obviously wasn't going to allow a teenager and a baby to invade her living room. "What? No, Puck, you can't put yourself out like this. I...I'll find somewhere else. I mean, maybe Mr Hummell will let me have Kurt's room while he's in New York, or-"

"No!" Noah's vehement response was a surprise to all three of them. He coloured and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I mean, c'mon, dude, rooming with your ex's dad? With a baby you _obviously_ made while you and Kurt were dating? Can you say 'awkward'?"

"But...she wakes up every other hour during the night," Blaine protested, "It's not fair on you. Plus, I've seen your room. No way could you fit a crib and another bed or even a mattress in there."

"So? You afraid of sharing a bed with me?"

Blaine couldn't believe they were actually discussing this in front of Puck's mom. "I'm gay, Puck. Shouldn't _you _be the one having a mild panic attack over this?"

Ruth snorted inelegantly and Noah shot her an indecipherable look before turning his attention back to Blaine. "You think I'm as small-minded as everyone else in this P.O.S town?" he actually sounded vaguely hurt. Blaine immediately felt guilty.

"No! God, no. I just...it's been a rough couple of days, is all. I'm sorry, Noah. You've been nothing but kind and supportive and I'm just a mess. I...I really appreciate the offer, and, if it still stands, Emily and I would love to stay here with you. I'll pull my weight; I'll get a job and pay board and do chores and I'll find my own place soon enough. And-"

"You'll relax, stay in school and focus on taking care of yourself and your baby." Ruth finished for him, reaching out and plucking the little girl out of her father's hold. "I don't want to hear any more talk about finding your own place while you have a perfectly good roof over your head. Yes, you will need a job to pay for daycare and baby essentials and whatnot, but I won't be accepting any money from you. And neither will Noah."

Puck nodded along with her, grinning at his friend. "Let's go get your stuff."

As Blaine didn't have long to pack, he didn't have many belongings to bring in. Between the two of them, they had everything up in Puck's room in one load, and Blaine was surprised to find that Ruth had made room in Noah's closet for his clothes. _Wow,_ he thought, _this is actually happening._

He swallowed against the lump in his throat. Puck had been invaluable over the past twenty-four hours, and now he was letting Blaine invade his house -his own bed, even- so that the younger man could keep his daughter. Blaine didn't know how he would make it up to his friend, but he vowed that one day he would.

"Where's her crib?" Ruth asked, leaning against the doorframe, Emily suckling eagerly at a bottle of formula. "And you might as well bring her car seat in, it'll double as a basinette and carrier for now."

Blaine sighed and looked away. "I, uh, don't have any of those things just yet. Like I said, she only turned up yesterday and-"

"How did you drive her here?"

Puck's mother looked horrified as Blaine recounted the debacle with the basket. He was on the verge of tears as he explained that he'd truly had no other option. Puck's hand was on his upper back, rubbing slow, soothing circles as Blaine struggled against his emotions, apologising time and time again for doing something so reckless.

Ruth pursed her lips, taking Blaine's story in and sighing. If only the boy's parents had been a little more understanding, had given him more time to organise a safe eviction from their home...but, what was done was done. "I'll watch her for the afternoon," she said, "You and Noah can head out and buy some essentials. Do you have any money on you, or-"

Blaine nodded. "I have a little saved up from working this summer, and my Grandfather left me a small inheretance accessible after my Eighteenth birthday, which will be in a few months, so I'm alright, financially. I mean, obviously, I'm still gonna need a job, but I'm in a better position than a lot of teen parents have found themselves in." He winced, realising the way Puck may have interpreted his flustered babbling, but the hand on his shoulder just squeezed down, still lending friendship and support, and he breathed in relief.

Fourty-five minutes later, Blaine found himself in the passenger seat of Noah's truck, pulling into the parking lot of their local Goodwill. Ruth had suggested it as the best place to start looking for affordable baby goods, knowing that cribs and prams were big-ticket items. They left the store empty handed and out of luck. Next stop was a second-hand furniture store, but they, too, had very little by way of cribs.

"Walmart?" Puck asked, slipping the truck into drive.

"Walmart." Blaine agreed.

There they filled a cart with diapers, a couple of pacifiers, some more formula, bottles, burping towels, clothes and a car seat that doubled nicely as a carrier, like Ruth had suggested. Blaine priced a couple of prams and a crib, and determined that he'd probably return for them after school the next day if he had no luck finding anything cheaper.

"Blaine?" a voice questioned as they started on their approach to the registers. "Noah?"

"Mister Berry," Blaine turned and greeted with a strained smile, trying to bodily block the contents of his shopping cart. "Hi, how are you?"

Hiram pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose and smiled down at the boy. He and Leroy had gotten to know Blaine quite well the previous year, as he and Rachel had spent a lot of their free time rehearsing in their basement for West Side Story. He admired the boy for having the courage to be out and proud at his age, to have returned from a safe haven like Dalton to a public school like McKinley for love, heedless of the rampant homophobia. It was such a pity that Kurt and he hadn't been able to make the distance, but on the other hand he was glad that Rachel had her best friend with her. "You know," he told Blaine, "Even though Rachel's in New York, you're always welcome to visit Leroy and I." He looked across at Noah, musing at the odd pair the boys made. "You too, Noah."

"That's really nice, Mister Berry," Blaine enthused, trying to draw Hiram's attention away from the shopping cart. "We..._I _will definitely take you up on that offer-"

"So, what brings two strapping young men like you out to a _Walmart,_" he said the word so distastefully that it was a wonder _he_ was there, "on a Sunday afternoon?" Hiram asked, smelling a rat. He peered around Blaine and into the cart, his smile vanishing completely. He locked eyes with Noah. "Again, Noah, really?"

Before Puck could bristle, Blaine cut in. "Uh, actually...No. I, er, this is for me. I mean, my...my daughter."

Hiram blinked owlishly down at the boy. "Say what now?"

"I...Well...There was a party and..." Blaine shrugged. "I apparently made a stupid, drunken decision and now, well, I'm a Dad."

"Oh my goodness."

Blaine could feel the disappointment radiating off the man in waves. He smothered a sigh. He knew exactly what people were going to think of his news, he just didn't want to see it happen in front of him. Especially from people whose opinions mattered to him.

"What...how..." Hiram struggled to form a coherent question. "What's her name?"

Having expected a verbal lashing, Blaine did a double take. "What? Oh! Uh, Emily. Emily Rose Anderson."

"Lovely." Hiram mustered a small, but genuine, smile. "And how old is she?" He was peering back into the cart, frowning slightly at the newborn diapers and formula.

"Nine days. I, uh, her mother sort of left her with me yesterday. Indefinitely."

"In a basket on his doorstep," Noah added, "Obviously, he had no idea. His parents didn't deal too well, so now he's staying with Ma, The Brat and me."

"Oh my..." Hiram pulled Blaine into a hug, startling him. When he stepped back, he continued to grip Blaine's shoulders, as if he was worried the boy would flee the second he let him go. "Is there anything you need? Leroy and I kept all of Rachel's baby things, mostly out of sentimentality, though he's convinced that we can sell it all for millions once she's a big Broadway phenomenon, but this? This is a far more worthwhile cause."

"What? Oh, no, Mister Berry, I couldn't possibly-"

"Nonsense! And what did I tell you about this Mister Berry business?" Before Blaine could continue to protest, Hiram pulled out his cell phone and hit number one on his speed dial. "Leroy? Sweetheart, I need you to pull a few things out of the attic..."

-?-

"I can't believe we're doing this." Blaine muttered as he stepped out of his car, Puck's truck pulling up behind him. After the run-in at Walmart, Hiram had demanded that they take their cart-load of purchases back to Puck's, retrieve Emily and come directly over to the Berry household, where Leroy would have all of Rachel's old baby things ready and waiting for them, as well as a light afternoon tea. Blaine hated being the reciprocant of charity; hated feeling pitied, hated the idea that he wasn't doing a good enough job on his own.

Puck, on the other hand, had argued that cribs were _fucking pricey, _that the Berry men would have invested in the top of the range available to them at the time and that they would have maintained their items a shitload better than any old random person dumping their stuff off at Goodwill. Blaine hadn't been able to fault that logic, and, as long as he looked after whatever he was given, he could always give it back when Emily had outgrown it or he could afford to replace it himself.

"Hey, li'l Princess," Puck said, ambling over and removing Emily from her carrier. "Uncle Puck's got you now."

Try as he might, Blaine couldn't hide the smirk tugging at his lips. Puck was such a baby-addict! His smile dimmed a little, knowing that the other teen would have made an excellent Dad, given the chance to raise Beth himself. As it was, Blaine had only known about Emily for a day and a half, and he couldn't imagine having to give her up.

The front door to the Berry residence swung open before they'd even stepped foot on the path, the married couple waiting impatiently for the boys to join them inside. "Oh, she's _so _precious," Leroy crooned, arms extended towards Puck, who didn't appear to want to relinquish his hold on her so soon. Rachel's 'Daddy' offered an intimidating glower. "Give me the baby, Puckerman."

Puck complied with a sigh, watching with barely concealed longing as the two grown men babbled over his self-proclaimed niece.

"Blaine, she looks _just _like you!" Hiram trilled, running a finger down her tiny nose. He leaned over her, taking on a higher, more childish way of speaking. "Yes she does! Yes she does! Oh, I'm willing to bet that you'll be just as artistically talented as your Daddy, won't you? Another little ingenue, like our little Star."

Blaine and Puck shared a look, but wisely kept their mouths shut.

Leroy reluctantly passed Emily into his husband's waiting arms, pinning Blaine with a stern gaze. "Coffee?" he asked, gesturing into the kitchen. Blaine knew an order when he heard one, so, with one last look to check that his baby was in safe hands (even though he knew she was), he followed the other Mr Berry into the next room.

A coffee mug was pressed into his hands soon after, and he found himself pushed gently into a seat at the dining table, Leroy across from him, Noah to his right. Nobody spoke for a few tense seconds, all three men listening to Hiram's baby-talk drifting in from the lounge. Leroy eventually cleared his throat.

"She's a beautiful baby, Blaine," he said, breaking the ice.

Blaine nodded and smiled softly into his coffee cup. "Thank you."

"Obviously, Hiram told me about your parents, and about you moving in with the Puckerman family," he nodded at Noah, "But, honestly, Blaine...how are you holding up?"

Running a finger over the rim of his mug, Blaine kept his gaze averted and shrugged. "As good as can be expected. I've had a couple of meltdowns, sure, but Puck's been a God-send."

Leroy met Noah's eyes across the table and smiled. The once-delinquent had always been a good boy at heart, and Leroy recalled all to well Rachel's confession that Noah had had the willpower to turn her advances down when she'd been misguidedly seeking revenge against Finn for lying to her about sleeping with that Latino girl. Honestly? His daughter's life was like a soap opera. "Noah's a good friend," he agreed with Blaine, turning his attention back to the younger of the two. "But...have you considered all of your options?"

_That _got the boy to snap to attention. "I'm not giving her up!" he seethed, eyes flashing dangerously. "I may only be Seventeen, and she might be the result of what I have decided to call _extremely_ drunken experimentation, and I might only have met her yesterday, but I _love_ my daughter. Chances are, she's the only biological kid I'm ever going to have. Hell, she might be the only kid I have, period. I mean, was it an easy process for you guys to have Rachel? I can't imagine finding a surrogate is a simple process. And we all know how difficult and long-winded adoption is, much less for gay men, and-"

"Whoa, there!" Leroy cut in, worried about the state Blaine was working himself into. "Blaine, it's okay; you're not on trial here. I think what you're doing is admirable. I just wanted to make sure that you're thinking this through. No offense to Noah, but is staying with his family right for you? With Rachel gone, Hiram and I have a lot of space to share. And he and I have the added benefit of having been in your position, to an extent. Gay men raising a little girl in a generally intolerant community..."

Blaine shook his head, warmed by the offer, but knowing that he wouldn't be comfortable living with Rachel's Dads, even if it did mean the promise of more space, privacy and his own bed. Beside him, he could feel the tension practically vibrating off Puck. Sneaking a quick glance at his friend-come-lifeline, he noticed the clenched jaw and set shoulders, and realised that Puck really didn't want him to accept Leroy's offer.

Not quite understanding why, but relieved that the jock's assistance was clearly genuine and not just some action motivated by pity, Blaine met Leroy's gaze determinedly. "It's a wonderful, incredibly generous offer, Mister Berry, uh, Leroy," he amended quickly, "but I can't accept it. I...I think I'd be more comfortable at Puck's for the time being. Not that I wouldn't be comfortable here," he amended hastily, trying to sound diplomatic, not wanting to offend, "But..." He missed the exhalation of relief that came from Puck, too focused on trying to mend things with Leroy.

Leroy glanced between the boys, eyes lighting up with understanding, wondering if the teens even knew what was going on between them. He highly doubted it, and hoped that it wouldn't all end in heartbreak. Both deserved to find some semblance of happiness, even if it was where they least expected to. "It's fine, Blaine," he reassured. "Just know that Hiram and I are here for you. Whatever you need. You have our cell numbers?"

Blaine pulled out his phone and recited the digits dutifully.

"Good," Mr Berry said, getting up to rinse their mugs and set them in the sink. "Promise that you'll call us, anytime, night or day, if you need anything. Anything at all; money, a place to sleep for the night, just a chat...it doesn't matter. We're here for you." He looked at the older teen meaningfully. "That applies to you, too, Noah."

Blaine felt tears welling in his eyes, and he nodded, too choked up to speak. Leroy swept back around the counter and pulled him up into a hug, knowing how starved for paternal attention the boy was. He pointedly ignored the shakily inhalation that accompanied Blaine's expression of gratitude.

"I think someone's hungry!" Hiram declared as he entered the room, effectively breaking the tension, the crying baby pressed up against his shoulder.

-?-

"I just wanna say that Rachel's Dads rock for reassembling this for us," Puck declared as he and Blaine attempted to squeeze the large white crib down the tiny upstairs hallway, having successfully navigated the cramped staircase over the course of half an hour, "but we should have thought of the measurements first."

"Too late now," Blaine replied from the other end of the timber monstrosity. "At least I'm trapped on the side of the hall with the bathroom."

Puck laughed, inching them closer towards his -their- bedroom. "Yeah, well, I'm on the side with the _baby_."

"Damn it."

"Language!" Ruth's voice admonished from downstairs.

"How does she do that?"

"Jewish Mom super powers."

"Ah." Blaine cleared his throat. "Sorry!" he called back down the stairs belatedly.

It took some maneuvering that bordered on breaking the laws of physics, but, soon enough, the solid white timber crib was pressed up beneath the window and against the corner of the wall furtherest from the bedroom door, ten inches of space between it and the foot of the queen size bed. Noah's desk had been relocated to the lounge room downstairs, his guitar now standing where the desk had been.

"What'd I tell you?" Puck asked, flopping down on the bed, mopping perspiration from his forehead with the hem of his weathered t-shirt, his chiseled abdomen on display. "Piece of cake."

Blaine swallowed forcefully, feeling his cheeks grow hot, directing his focus to the crib. "Think she's going to like it?"

"Dude, she's like a week old. She'll like anywhere warm, safe and soft."

"True..." Blaine conceded.

"You look about as wrecked as I feel," Puck observed, patting the space beside him. "C'mon, nap time. Ma's got Em covered."

Given that he'd _just_ been ogling his very straight friend's abs, Blaine wasn't sure laying down next to him was the best course of action. Through everything he'd been through over that weekend, Puck had been extremely tactile, and it was the sheer emotional stress that had prevented Blaine's seventeen year old body from noticing and reacting. But now that things were calming down and sorting themselves out, his hormones were beginning to resurface. Baby or no baby, he definitely liked men, and the specimen that was waiting for him to join his bed was impossibly attractive, and near impossible to resist. Idly, he wondered if it was too late to take the Berry men up on their offer.

"Blaine, man, seriously; I don't bite," Puck pushed, smirking devilishly. "Unless you ask me to, of course."

Immediately Blaine had a visual, and he could feel the familiar stirrings of arousal coiling in his belly, his dick quickly catching on to the program. A blush creeping up his neck, he shook his head and started backing out of the room. "Actually, I'm all sweaty and gross...I'm gonna grab a shower first. It'll probably be more refreshing than a nap. Sleeping during the day always makes me groggy." He babbled.

Noah cocked an eyebrow at him, then shrugged. "Suit yourself," he replied, shifting into the middle of the bed, grabbing a pillow and manhandling it until he was splayed on top of it, a muscular thigh pinning it to the mattress. "More room for me."

Blaine had a fleeting desire to _be_ the pillow and that was all it took for him to go from half-mast to positively _aching. _He suppressed a curse and raced into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him. He glared down at the tent in his trousers. "Traitor," he spat at it. "He's your friend. Your oh-so-straight friend." He thought about all the things he had done for him since he'd walked in on the meltdown in Blaine's parents' kitchen. "He's my _best_ friend," Blaine murmured softly. He couldn't imagine any of the other guys going above and beyond like Noah had. Getting all worked up over him was wrong. _So_ wrong.

He ran the shower and tried to will his erection away, but it bobbed with enthusiasm, demanding his attention. Blaine sighed and shut his eyes, cupping himself and biting his lip to prevent the moans from escaping as he teased at the head. He dug through his mental spankbank, trying to find the right fantasy for his ministrations, but found his usual stimuli lacking. This horrified him, because Zac Efron was _never_ lacking. Blaine refused to fixate on why that might suddenly be the case, but it was no use.

Images of Puck shirtless sprang unbidden to his mind, and Blaine swore under his breath at the jolt of pure pleasure he'd felt at the thought, his hand picking up the pace, twisting _just so _on each upward stroke. He imagined that the hand touching him belonged to the taller, muscular teen and that was all it took to push him over the edge, ropes of come painting the tiles in front of him.

When his breathing evened out, and his heart rate returned to normal, all Blaine could feel was dirty.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Again, wow, thanks for all of the feedback. I love the number of people who have followed and favourited ALMOST as much as the people who stopped to review. A huge thanks to Loki Firefox for your insight and for putting up with my rambling PMs. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.**

* * *

After emerging from the shower, his cheeks stained pink with shame, Blaine wandered downstairs and dropped onto the couch next to Ruth, content to watch Emily sleep in her new carrier. Then a thought struck him.

"What am I going to do with her tomorrow?" He asked Ruth. "I can't take her to school with me, and I can't expect you to watch her while I try to find a daycare that will take her with such late notice."

Puck's mother sighed and shrugged. "You might have to miss a day or two of school and hope that you can use that time to get it all sorted out. I would have suggested that Noah take her for the day, but he starts his new job with Coach Bieste in the morning."

Blaine nodded, smiling for Puck. Over the summer, during one of their epic Halo nights, the older boy had confessed that he might like to be a P.E teacher or a coach, and Blaine had urged him to speak to Bieste about his aspirations. The woman had managed to help Puck graduate, Blaine had reasoned, so maybe she could help him get into college? And she didn't disappoint.

OSU Lima was willing to take Puck on board as a late entrant for the second semester if he could earn himself some credit points and get a little practical experience up his sleeve during the first six months of the school year. Bieste had managed to come through on that, too, finagling Noah a paid position as her assistant. The jock had been over the moon, Blaine and Sam the first people he told.

Coming back to the conversation at hand, it seemed as though Ruth's idea would have to do. Blaine would skip school in order to secure adequate daycare for his daughter, while Puck would go to McKinley to work. It sounded like it was going to be a bizarre, Twilight Zone sort of day.

With a sigh, the teenager watched the steady rise and fall of his baby's tiny chest. He hoped that he could be the sort of parent that she deserved, that he could provide all the best things in life for her. Part of him wondered if he was being selfish in keeping her. He was just a kid himself, and doing this on his own to boot.

She wouldn't have Grandparents to spoil her rotten on birthdays, because they hadn't been interested in her welfare. He couldn't personally put a roof over her head; he'd had to accept sympathetic charity in order to do so. Hell, his baby girl was going to be spending the first year of her life sleeping less than a foot away from him, when other kids had their own nurseries.

If he'd put her up for adoption, she could have been spoilt rotten, gotten every wish her little heart desired... But Blaine's heart hurt just thinking about it. He'd meant what he had told Leroy: he loved Emily too much to give her away, regardless of the circumstances of her conception or the unceremonious way he'd discovered her. Was it going to be difficult raising her at his age? Yes. Did that mean it wouldn't be worth while? Hell no.

"Do you think I'm crazy for doing this?" The question left Blaine's lips before it had even formed in his mind. He looked back up at Ruth, his heart hammering in his chest. Her approval meant more to him than he cared to admit.

She shook her head, pulling him in for a hug. "Oh, honey, no. I was just a bit older than you when I had Noah, but we got by, and I wouldn't change it for anything. So the timing sucks, big deal. You're mature for your age, and you'll have more support than you probably realise."

He squeezed her gratefully. "Thank you," he murmured, overcome by emotion. "For letting us stay here. And for not judging me."

"And why would she judge you?" Puck interrupted as he descended the last few stairs, causing Blaine to almost jump out of his skin.

The younger man shrugged and looked away. "I don't know. For a lot of reasons, I guess."

"Well, kid," Ruth said, casting a sidelong glance at her son, "We don't do that here. Glass houses and all that jazz. Right, Noah?"

Once again, the look Puck sent his mother was inscrutable, but he agreed with her nonetheless. "So...when's Bekah coming home? I want dinner. I'm wasting away here, Ma."

Ruth rolled her eyes and told him that his sister was due back from her play date at Six and that he could survive until then. This sparked more melodramatic moaning from the jock, and, in return, more wise-cracking from his mother. Blaine sat back and watched the banter with a content smirk tugging at his lips, surprised that he felt more at home and included in a family with the Puckerman lot than he ever had with his parents.

-?-

"Dude, are you _seriously_ planning on wearing that?" Puck asked after they'd decided to turn in for the night, once Ruth had shown them both how to safely bathe the baby. He gestured at his younger friend's baggy t-shirt and long pajama pants with a frown.

Blaine shrugged and kept his eyes glued to the floor, uncomfortable with Puck's scrutiny, but even more uncomfortable with his choice of sleeping attire. The older boy was clad only in a pair of short satin boxers, leaving very little to Blaine's (admittedly vivid) imagination.

"Blaine...c'mon, man, look at me."

Oh there was _no _way that was happening. Nope. Noah Puckerman was all muscle and tanned skin and sculpted perfection. And he wasn't stupid; if Blaine looked at him, Puck would immediately be able to tell that their platonic friendship had hit a snag on the gay teen's end. And then things would just be awkward. Blaine could not risk losing his best friend over a ridiculous crush. Especially when keeping a roof over Emily's head was at stake. "Leave it, Puck, I'm fine. I'm comfortable like this."

"You're seriously telling me that you sleep dressed like that every night?" Blaine didn't need to look up to know that Puck was arching an eyebrow at him in disbelief. "I've stayed at your parents' place before, dude. I know you usually crash in just your boxers."

With pink cheeks, the younger boy looked up in surprise. During all of their time shared over the summer, he'd been really careful not to make the other boys unnecessarily uncomfortable. If he'd crashed at their houses, he'd worn a shirt and long pants much as he was now, and if they'd crashed at his, he'd slept in his room, while they bunked elsewhere. "You're usually in the guest room. How'd you-"

"Ha! I knew it!" Puck crowed in victory. "That, Blainers, is called a lucky bluff. And now you're going to strip down and tell me exactly why you lied."

Turns out? Being ordered to strip by Noah Puckerman (in the man's best authoritative tone at that)? Total turn on. _Crap_.

Sensing Blaine's hesitation, Puck sat up and patted the space beside him. "Come on; we're best friends, right? I've seen you cry like a baby, and you've seen me do the same. What's going on inside that curly-assed head of yours?"

"I-" Blaine started, before taking a deep breath. He shook his head. There was too much to lose here. He plastered on a fake smile and rolled his eyes at himself. "It's nothing. I'm being stupid." He peeled off his shirt and stepped out of the pajama pants, leaving him standing awkwardly in front of the bed in just his boxers. "So, which side do I get?"

Despite the fact that he knew Puck was straight, Blaine was still glad for all those hours he'd spent training at the gym. His body wasn't as blatantly sculpted as the older boy's, but he was trim, toned and surprisingly muscular underneath his vests and bow-ties. Knowing that he was attractive allayed some of his self-conscious concerns about sharing a bed with Puck, crazy as that sounded.

Puck frowned up at his friend, knowing that he'd been lied to, but also knowing not to push the issue just yet. Blaine had enough on his plate without being forced to 'fess up about things that made him uncomfortable before he was ready. "You should take the other side, near Emily," he eventually replied with a shrug. "I'm easy either way, though, if you're a right side of the bed sleeper."

Blaine shook his head, offering a lame "Nah, I'm good," and shuffled down past the crib, gingerly climbing underneath the covers and curling in on himself as far away from Puck as he could manage on the queen size bed.

Puck watched him for a moment in bemusement, before switching off his bedside lamp. "G'night, Blaine," he said quietly into the darkness.

It took a few moments, but he smiled as the reply was whispered back.

"'Night, Noah."

-?-

Blaine awoke the next morning with his back pressed flush against a shirtless, chiseled chest, the matching arm draped over him, holding him tight. It took a moment for reality to settle in. He wasn't dreaming; there really was an adonis pinning him to the cotton sheets. However, Puck was straight, and there was a baby -_his_ baby- less than a foot away, already making those snuffled whimpers that Blaine had come to identify as her waking up sounds.

His eyes widened as Puck -still fast asleep- pulled him in closer, grinding his morning wood up against Blaine's ass. With a strangled yelp, Blaine lunged forward, tumbling straight off the edge of the bed. The noise he made as he landed heavily on the thin carpet was enough to bring Emily screaming into consciousness.

"Guh," Puck mumbled, the baby's cries waking him up. "W'time'sit?" He fumbled for his phone, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Five? The fuck? We only _just_ put her back to sleep, like, an hour ago."

"Two hours," Blaine corrected, using the mattress as leverage to scoop himself back up off the ground.

Puck blinked, suddenly confused. "Dude? Why were you on the floor?"

"Long story," Blaine brushed the question off, shuffling over to the crib. "Hey baby girl," he cooed, reaching in and lifting Emily into his arms, doing the 'bounce and pace' movement that he'd perfected overnight to calm her cries. "It's alright, Daddy's got you," the dreaded 'D word' was getting easier to say, and Blaine was feeling much less self-conscious about it given that he'd spent most of the night behaving this way. The loud wails tapered off into hiccuping sobs pretty quickly, and Blaine beamed down at his daughter happily. "There now," he said, brushing his free hand over her soft, downey hair, "was all that noise really necessary?"

Her dark eyes glanced up at him, not really focusing (the websites he'd googled the previous evening had told him not to expect that this soon in her development) but alert nonetheless. He patted her diapered backside, finding the bottom of her sleeper a little damp. "I think someone needs another change," he said, moving to the chest of drawers next to the crib and deftly plucking the required supplies from the top drawer.

"I got her," Puck interrupted, having spread a towel out over the foot of the bed. "You did the last one." He waved Blaine off in the direction of the hallway, his attention completely devoted to the squirming baby now lying in front of him. "Maybe go make up some formula? We'll be down in a few minutes."

Blaine did as requested, bustling around the kitchen with practiced ease. He was just testing the temperature of the formula when Noah snuck up behind him, all dressed and ready for his first day at work, his planned surprise entrance foiled by the garbled noises of the baby against his shoulder.

"Spoil sport," he told her fondly, her little head supported (and almost engulfed) by his large hand. He looked beseechingly at Blaine. "Can I feed her?"

Blaine passed the bottle over wordlessly, leaning against the counter to watch Puck get wrapped around Emily's little finger. He couldn't get over just how much Noah had done for him and the baby. He'd gotten up each time she had cried during the night, despite Blaine's protests, because he'd known that Blaine would be freaking out. He'd helped with the feedings and diaper changes, and had shown Blaine the best way to rock her back to sleep. He'd made Blaine feel confident that he had made the right decision when he'd told his parents that he was keeping her.

"You're amazing," Blaine said without thinking, sounding a little too enamoured, even to his own ears.

Puck's eyes were on his instantly. "What?"

"I just...I mean...I was just thinking that I honestly don't know what I would have done without you this weekend. What _we,_" Blaine gestured between his daughter and himself to illustrate his point, "would have done. You pulled me out of a number of breakdowns, you showed me how to look after her." He sighed. "Hell, you've given up your privacy, your sleep and even your bed for me. And all your help last night..." Blaine knew he was blushing. "You're amazing. I just...I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough, Noah."

The older boy opened his mouth to reply, but it was cut off by his mother swanning into the kitchen. "Morning, boys!" she chirped, stopping to brush a kiss over her son's forehead, and then Emily's for good measure. "How was the first night?"

"Not as bad as Blaine thought it was going to be," Noah answered, taking the proffered towel and casting it over his shoulder, lifting Emily up for a burp. She spat up on the towel and he was glad he'd had the foresight to protect his good shirt. "She was up a few times, but it wasn't as though she was really fussing or anything."

"That's because she's a good girl, isn't it, sweetheart?" Ruth replied, directing the rhetorical question at the baby. "Such a perfect little baby," she cooed. "Both of mine were terrors."

"Mom!"

Ruth winked at Blaine, before looking back at her eldest child, regarding him with a fond expression despite her complaints. "Honestly, Noah, you were the fussiest creature I'd ever met. You were colicky for _months_. If I put you down, you cried until I picked you back up. So demanding! And then when you started to talk, _Oi vey! _'Mommy, mommy, _mommy_!' _All_ the time!"

Puck's cheeks were crimson.

"A real Momma's boy, huh?" Blaine couldn't resist teasing the usually tough boy.

"Can it, Anderson!" Noah huffed, but his eyes glinted with mirth. "I'm still holding your kid. I'll take her hostage if you don't play nice." He winced when Ruth slapped him lightly upside the head. "Hey!"

"You can't use Emily as collateral, Noah Elijah Puckerman. You need to play fair."

"But _Ma..._"

She laughed and turned to Blaine, setting a coffee and a bowl of cereal down in front of him. "What'd I tell you? All grown up and he's still whining at me!"

They all laughed and continued to banter until Rebekah stumbled in, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, asking if she really had to go to school.

Ruth sighed and, having informed her nine year old that, yes, she did have to go to school, turned back to Blaine. "Enjoy the baby years," she told him. "Because once they're gone, _this _is what you get." Though the words were negative, they were spoken with the same affection with which she'd earlier regarded her son, and she ruffled her daughter's hair. "Not that it's all that bad, huh, squirt?"

The grade-schooler grinned back at her mother and shoveled cereal into her mouth, soon babbling about about her class pet.

Blaine looked across at his daughter, cocooned in Noah's strong embrace, and smiled, already imagining what she'd be like at Bekah's age. Idly, he wondered if Puck would still be in the picture...

As soon as he'd had the thought, Blaine felt his stomach turn to lead. He was getting _way_ too into this little fantasy of playing family with his straight best friend. There were a couple of operative words there: _Fantasy_ and _Straight_. Kicking his overactive imagination, combined with his teen hormones, Blaine excused himself to go get dressed, checking that Emily was okay to stay behind. All three members of the Puckerman family waved him off, happy to mind the infant.

Once he was in Puck's room, he shut the door behind him and leaned back against it, allowing the back of his head to connect with the timber with a thud. "I'm getting in way over my head here," he told himself. "Be grateful for what you have, Blaine. You spent the best part of eighteen months completely content to have a chaste relationship with your boyfriend. If you can pull that off, you can deal with having a best friend that looks like Puck does. It's just a crush. Get over it."

The pep talk did very little to fix his internal dilemma, and he feared that his feelings for Noah were beginning to run a little too deep than was healthy for a 'crush'. He dressed slowly, reminding himself of all the reasons why falling for his best friend was a bad thing, and opened the door only to collide with a wall of muscle.

"So, you were taking a while, and Ma wanted me to check that you were okay..." Puck told him without preamble, guiding him back into the room and forcing him to sit on the bed. "And, like, you know I'm here for you if you need to let off some steam, right?"

Blaine blinked, his mind having leapt straight into _letting off steam _in its most suggestive form. It took him longer than it should have to realise that Noah was talking about emotional venting, not sexual release. He cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah, of course. Thanks, Puck, but I'm good. I was just..." his gaze landed on his semi-unpacked duffel bag, his red bow-tie peeking out of the zippered compartment, "looking for the right bow tie."

"You're not wearing a bow tie."

"Uh, yeah, 'cos, y'know, I couldn't find it." _Smooth, Blaine, real smooth._

"Uh-huh," Puck looked and sounded understandably skeptical. He folded his arms across his chest -_and_, _whoa, biceps...__**Focus**__, Blaine!- _and pinned the younger boy with a serious stare. "Okay, so, you've had a crap couple of days, so I'm not going to push it, but you _will _tell me what's going on at some point."

The sound of Emily's wailing started up, audible from all the way downstairs, and Blaine was thankful for the distraction. He nodded at Puck and then blathered some excuse about seeing to his daughter, fleeing the room like a frightened mouse. Puck watched him leave with a bemused expression, following his in wake soon after.

-?-

"Geez Louise, Puckerman!" Shannon Bieste exclaimed during lunch break when she returned to find her new assistant at her desk, face planted and snoring into last year's mid-season profiles. "It's only day one!"

"Wha-? Huh?" he pulled himself up into a seated position, running his hand over his face. He flushed sheepishly under his boss's incredulous stare. "Sorry, Coach. Up all night with the baby. I thought I was good to go, but..." he trailed off, catching her confused and worried expression. "What?"

She sat down across from him, placing her hand on his arm. "What baby, Noah?"

He winced. _Shit_. Blaine was going to notify the staff of his change in circumstances tomorrow, of course, but Noah had promised to keep it all hush-hush for the time being, until Blaine got his shit together. He'd even texted Sam and reminded him not to say anything about it until Blaine raised the topic himself. Bieste knowing was _not _a smart move. She'd tell Schue, and Schue would tell Miss P, and _she _would most likely confront Blaine first thing in the morning, and someone like Jewfro would overhear it...things like these tended to snowball fast. He chuckled nervously and glanced over his mentor's shoulder. "Baby? Did I say something about a baby? Huh, sleep-deprived rambling. I meant I was with a chick. I call them all Baby, y'know. Can't get in trouble for forgetting names that way."

"_Noah_," she'd lost the comforting vibe and now spoke his name with a growl. "Don't try to pull a swift one over me. I _know _you stopped womanizing when you decided that you wanted to convince that Anderson kid to date you."

His eyes widened almost comically, and he looked over his shoulders to make sure they were alone. "Shannon, c'mon...I told you that in confidence." He stared down at his hands. "And it hasn't panned out. Stuff came up."

"It's just us here," she reminded him, tone back to that deceptively calm, comforting one that always managed to get him to spill his secrets. She was like a Jedi or some shit. He was glad she'd become a friend over the summer, because having someone with powers like those working against you? Not cool. "What stuff?" she asked, "A baby? You knock another girl up last year?"

"God, no! Once. _Onetime_ and everyone automatically assumes I've made, like, a habit of getting chicks pregnant."

"Then what the hell was that rambling about a baby?"

He sighed. "You gotta promise me that this stays between us. You don't go blabbing to Schue, or Miss P. This isn't my deal to tell, really, okay?"

She frowned, but nodded. "Okay."

"Okay. So, Blaine organised an epic C.O.D marathon for Saturday, when his parents were in Columbus..." Puck began, launching into the story of his crazy weekend. He told her everything, every tiny detail he knew, all the way down to the adorable dimple in Emily's left cheek. When he was finished, he sagged with relief, glad to have gotten it off his chest. "So, like, I'm in way deep, but not deep enough, does that make sense? 'Cos, you said it yourself, I was tryin' to work up the courage to ask the guy out, y'know, and now he's living with me, sleeping in my freaking bed, and I'm ass-over-tit in love with his kid, and he has no idea how I feel about him because I stalled so long and totally missed the boat on that one. I mean, he's going through so much shit right now. How am I supposed to go 'oh, yeah, and by the way...I'm not as straight as you might think. _Surprise_!' -" this was accompanied by jazz hands for emphasis, "- when he's got more important stuff to deal with?"

Shannon blinked at him, opening and closing her mouth a few times. "And I thought I was done being surprised by the things you kids get up to these days," she eventually managed. "I never..." she shook her head. "Out and Proud Blaine Anderson fathered a kid. Huh." Having spent countless hours with the boy during rehearsals for West Side Story, she never would have picked him to wind up in this sort of predicament, especially when he'd gotten just as flustered at Artie's casual mentioning of sex as she had! He was so dapper, so proper, so...not at all attracted to girls. Then again, when Noah Puckerman had sat in her office all those weeks ago and confessed that he was crushing on his very male best friend, she'd been taken by surprise, too.

Honestly, these kids changed their orientation more often than they changed their underwear! But then, that wasn't necessarily true, was it?

Blaine was one hundred percent gay; one drunken night didn't change that. Alcohol could trick someone into feeling things that didn't exist, into doing things they normally wouldn't. Given enough alcohol, and a boatload of teenage hormones, and you were just tempting disaster, regardless of sexual orientation. And Puck? Well, it appeared that he was pansexual. He was definitely attracted to personality above physicality; Lauren Zizes was kind of the tip off on that one. Just because he hadn't been attracted to a guy before didn't mean it was impossible, all things considered. And he _was _a self-proclaimed sex shark, so it wasn't surprising that he could find any number of physical forms aesthetically and sexually appealing; love was love, sex was sex, and being open to attention from either gender would lead to more opportunities for either of those things.

"So, yeah..." Puck muttered awkwardly, shuffling papers around on her desk. "That's...kind of where we're at."

"Noah," she sighed. "This is a _huge_ thing for you guys to be dealing with."

He met her stare with his own. "I know that tone! That's your 'you need to talk to a professional' tone." He scowled when she shrugged. "Shannon, c'mon, you promised!"

"Puck, this isn't some little high school drama that's going to go away. Things are going to get harder before they get better. Raising a kid is-"

"We're not stupid!" he snapped, standing and pacing the length of the room. "He's not stupid," he amended, remembering that Emily, while living under his roof, was not actually his kid. The thought hurt more than he was comfortable acknowledging. "We're not expecting it to be like playing house or some shit. I mean, _he's _not. God. Look, he's doing the best he can, and I'm not going anywhere. When things get tough, he's going to have me there every step of the way, because he's my best friend, and he'll get through it because he's not alone. And tomorrow, when he comes to school, he's gonna notify admin of the situation, and he'll tell people when he's ready. Emma Pillsbury and Will Schuester will _not _be waiting for him with pamphlets and advice at the ready. Promise me, Shannon."

She debated it for a second, before realising that Noah Puckerman was right. It wasn't her place to meddle, and it would be common knowledge soon enough anyway, and _then _she could be free to meddle a little, without the guilt. "Fine. But you come to me if you need to talk anything out, okay? Anything at all."

He smiled a genuine, warm smile of relief and nodded. "Okay."

-?-

Blaine bit his lip and stared at his cell phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He'd tried daycare centers all over town, but none had been interested in taking on the child of a sole teen dad. They hadn't even known he was gay, and they'd been varying degrees of snide, condescending and just plain rude. This call was not one that he'd wanted to make so soon, but he was out of options, unless he wanted to drop out of school altogether (and that was _not_ an option, period).

He pressed the green button and brought the phone up to his ear, tapping his pen impatiently to the ringing. Eventually, the recipient answered.

"_Hello_?"

Blaine took a deep breath. "Mr Berry. Uh, sorry, Leroy, hi. It's Blaine. I, uh, I need your help..."

-?-

When Puck arrived home that evening, it was to the sound of Blaine singing as he danced around the kitchen, a home made lasagne cooling on the bench. "Oh my God, dude, I could kiss you!" he exclaimed, the enticing aroma from the pan causing his mouth to water.

Blaine's cheeks flushed bright pink, surprised by being caught singing something overly girly and also by Noah's offhand declaration. "Oh! Um. Hi."

"Hi." The older boy smiled, and the part of Blaine that was steadfastly ignoring his 'don't crush on Puck' mantra melted.

Blaine was suddenly struck by the sheer domesticity of the scene, and his stomach lurched in yearning. This was what he wanted out of life one day. Exchanging 'how was your day?'s over a lovingly prepared dinner, actually greeting each other with sweet, chaste kisses... He closed his eyes, demanding that his brain stop teasing him. He had a baby now; what guy his age would want to get involved with that? Besides, he was infatuated with his straight best friend; what guy could even compare? He was destined to stay single for a good deal of time to come.

"Did you find a daycare?" Noah's question shook Blaine from his musings.

"Actually, I did. It took a while, and nobody was really interested in helping a teen dad, but then I bit the bullet and called Leroy Berry. He said that there was actually a subsidised child care facility at Hiram's firm, and they made some calls for me, had a couple of rules bent thanks to Hiram's seniority, and managed to get Emily enrolled starting in a month. Six weeks is the youngest they'll take her, but Hiram managed to get them to agree to a few days early."

"A month?! What are you going to do about school?"

Blaine sighed. This was the part he hated. "Leroy's going to use some of his leave entitlements. He's going to watch her while I'm in school...I don't know how I'm going to make this up to him. I offered to pay-"

"But he wouldn't accept your money." Puck concluded.

"Exactly." Blaine ran a hand through his gel-free hair. "I feel awful taking so much charity from them. But...what other choice do I have? I'd have to give up a month of school if it weren't for Leroy's generosity, and I can't afford to do that. If I fall behind, then I won't do well. If I don't do well, I won't get into a good college. If I don't get into college..." he swallowed. "How am I going to give her the life she deserves?"

"You're doing the right thing," Puck nodded, walking over and giving his friend a one-armed hug. "And the Berrys wouldn't have offered to help if they didn't want to. You'll make it up to them somehow, even though I'm pretty sure they don't expect it. Don't beat yourself up about doing what's in your kid's best interests. Believe me, dude, that won't help you."

There was a moment of tense silence, Puck's words weighing down the air between them. He'd gone along with Quinn's choice because he'd believed -and he still begrudgingly did, even though his only contact with Beth was a monthly Skype date with Shelby- that it had been the best thing for his baby at the time. They'd been sophomores with two and a half years of school left after her birth; he couldn't see how that could have worked for him if he'd kept his daughter. He'd barely graduated as it was! Blaine was in a completely different position. He was smart (was in mostly AP classes to boot) and only had the one year left of school, and, though he hated the idea of receiving charity, he had so many people willing to help him through it. Had Puck fought tooth and nail for custody of Beth, particularly with how disliked and mistrusted he'd been at the time (and he'd brought that on himself, he knew), he'd have been pretty much on his own. Even his Ma, loving and supportive as she was, wouldn't have been happy to back him up.

"You're going to be an amazing Dad one day," Blaine told him, the words so quiet it was almost as if he hadn't spoken.

Warmth bloomed and spread inside Noah at the compliment, and he fought hard to keep his voice calm and level when he replied. "Thanks, man. It means a lot that you think so." He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "And, y'know, you're doing an awesome job yourself."

"Thanks, but it's only been three days." _Wow, _Blaine thought, suddenly hit by the new perspective. It had felt like way more than that.

Puck shrugged. "Three days, three years...To-may-to, to-mah-to. If you're a good dad, you're a good dad. That's all there is to it. If you _didn't _care if you were being a good dad or not, well, that'd prove you weren't one. So, by actually caring if you are or not, that kinda proves that you are a good dad."

Blaine laughed; the logic was just _so _Puck. "Who knew you were so deep?" he teased, nudging his friend's shoulder the best he could with the height difference.

Puck smirked at him, swiped an apple from the bowl on the kitchen table and moved towards the living room, turning back to toss over his shoulder: "There are a _lot _of things you don't know about me, Anderson."

And despite the fact that Blaine knew that the lascivious Puck sent his way was purely all part of the joke, he found his heart fluttering in hope as he stared after his best friend with longing and a dejected sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - Thank you all again for the feedback. I'm glad so many people are enjoying this. Your praise makes me feel on top of the world! Now, I know you all want Puck & Blaine to hook up immediately, but it's technically only day four, and Blaine's got a lot to deal with yet. Poor Blaine. My love of drama is seriously going to mess with him for a while. **

**In response to how long this will be...I'm not sure. I have a vague plot planned, but writing it is changing the tangent a little. I've got to chapter 6 drafted, and chapter 7 is being written right now. :) **

**Again, thanks to Loki Firefox for letting me bounce ideas. I know this chapter wasn't anything I spoke to you about...I hope you're not disappointed. I've been thinking it through, I promise!**

* * *

Blaine woke up the next morning -after another night filled with screams, diaper changes and lukewarm bottles- in the exact same position as he had the previous day. Puck's embrace was strong and reassuring, his chest warm and solid against Blaine's back. Blaine felt guilty for wanting to enjoy the moment for as long as possible. If the other boy woke up like this, things would get awkward fast, and Blaine couldn't afford that. Suppressing a sigh, he deliberated the best way to get out of Puck's hold without waking him up.

Eventually, he settled for reaching up and gently lifting Puck's arm, rolling out of the way and sliding off the bed. His bare feet hit the carpet with a dull thud, and he shuffled down between the crib and the foot of the bed, casting one last longing look at the tanned boy snoring into his pillow before he padded down the hall and into the bathroom, a bundle of fresh clothes under his arm.

When he returned to the bedroom, Noah had Emily spread out on a towel and was fastening the tabs on a clean diaper, pausing to tickle the soles of her tiny feet as her chubby legs pumped jerkily. "Good morning," Blaine greeted, leaning against the doorframe.

"Say good morning to Daddy, baby girl," Puck said as he gently dressed her in a new outfit from the collection of baby clothes that the Berrys had donated. He lifted her into the crook of his right arm, his left hand moving her arm in Blaine's direction. "Hi, Daddy."

Blaine snorted. "Dork," he accused, extending his arms. Once she was settled in his embrace, he beamed down at her, forgetting how exhausted he was almost immediately. "Morning, Em. Don't you just look pretty today?" he looked back up at Puck. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Dude, you gotta stop thanking me." Puck told him, moving to his closet and pulling out his own outfit for the day. "She's as much my responsibility as yours now that you're living with me. Kinda like a pet." He shucked his boxers without a second thought and Blaine quickly averted his gaze, fighting down a blush.

"A pet?" he echoed, hoping that he sounded irritated rather than flustered. "She's kind of more valuable to me than a goldfish, Puck."

"Well, yeah," the older boy pulled on fresh underwear and a good pair of jeans, then turned back to face him, his chosen shirt held loosely at his side. "More work, too. I was thinking more like a puppy. But a badass puppy, like a Rottweiler or somethin'."

"You're _seriously_ deranged, Puckerman."

Noah grinned at him, flexed his biceps with a wink, and an offhand "You know you love it," then resumed dressing.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Okay, little lady, let's get you ready for your first day with Mister Berry."

-?-

Leaving his daughter alone with someone else, knowing that he was going to be gone for an entire day? Harder to deal with than Blaine had expected. He had dropped her off with a diaper bag full of supplies and then felt his feet turn to lead.

"You'll call me, right? With updates? Let me know she's doing okay?" he'd called over his shoulder as Puck guided him back to the car, forcibly pushing him into the passenger seat. Leroy had nodded and assured him, closing the door before he could demand a written guarantee.

"She's gonna be fine," Puck said, forcing him out of his musings.

Blaine blinked, coming back to the present to find that they'd arrived at McKinley, Puck offering him a sympathetic look from his position in the driver's seat. "I don't think I can do this," he confessed quietly, looking down at his lap. "I didn't think it was going to be this difficult. I mean, how can I be so attached to her after, what, three whole days?" he ran a shaky palm over his face. "I know she's going to be fine. I do. But what if she starts fussing like she did last night? When she'd only stop after I held her and sang to her? Or-"

"Dude, stop it." Puck's sympathy had morphed into stony resolution. "Em's gonna be fine. The Berrys know what they're doing. You have to man up right now, head into that school and work hard so you can get the hell out of this crap town and provide the life she deserves."

Blaine nodded, knowing that he'd said as much only yesterday. "You're right," he acknowledged as they both exited the car. He shouldered his backpack and walked around the vehicle, nudging his friend by way of thanks.

"It's gonna get easier, bro," Puck said before they parted ways, extending his arm for a fist bump.

Blaine completed the gesture. "I hope so."

"I know so," the older boy replied, already walking in the opposite direction, towards the football field. "Try to enjoy the day. You're the same dude you were last week."

"Yeah," Blaine muttered to himself, having waved Puck off. "Only that guy didn't have the weight of someone else's -albeit tiny- world resting on his shoulders."

He walked through the doors with purpose, heading in the direction of the Principal's office. If any of his friends had seen him or tried to get his attention as he walked the crowded halls, he hadn't noticed.

When he got to the registra's desk, he waited impatiently for the woman to get off the phone, tapping his pen on the surface in front of him anxiously. She pinned him with an annoyed glare and wrapped up her call with a sigh. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," he replied, licking his lips nervously. "I, uh, I need to change some details on my student file."

She sighed again and started clacking away at her keyboard. "Name?"

"Blaine Anderson."

More typing. "Uh huh. Got your student I.D?" He handed over the card and she typed some more. "So, what details are we changing here?"

"Um, my address, phone number, emergency contacts-" her eyes widened marginally and he swallowed, "and, uh, _myparentalstatus._"

"Your what?"

"Umm, my parental status?" He cleared his throat, Puck's voice telling him to 'man up' playing in his head. "Um, as in, my status...as a parent? I, uh, I need it on my file in case there's ever an emergency with her, my daughter," he clarified, proud of himself for not stumbling over the word, "and if I need to leave early or whatever." He pulled the wad of papers that supported his story and put them in front of her. "And, yes, I know I'm like one of maybe only five openly gay kids here, so it's kind of a surprise to everyone, but I'm not making this up."

Suddenly, she didn't look annoyed anymore, but concerned. She picked up the paperwork and flicked through it, eyes blown wide with surprise when she took in the date on the birth certificate. "Eleven days," she breathed. "Wow." She looked up at the teen in front of her, taking in the developing circles under his eyes and felt a maternal pang for him. "How are you holding up, hon?"

The smile he gave her was equal parts surprise, embarrassment and genuine appreciation for her concern. "I'm okay," he admitted. "Tired, but Puck's mom assures me we'll adjust to a routine soon enough."

"Puck?" the woman behind the desk repeated, suddenly surprised all over again. "As in _Noah_ Puckerman?" That boy was infamous, his reputation definitely preceding him. She had a vague memory of the two boys being in Will Schuester's Glee club together, but had believed they ran in different circles.

"Yeah," Blaine told her, his eyes lighting up in a telling way. _Oh honey, _she thought, _talk about barking up the wrong tree. _"He's been a great friend through all this. My

parents kind of kicked me out when they found out about Emily, and his family has taken me in." Which brought him right back to the reason he was standing there, having this discussion with an otherwise complete stranger. "So, yeah, I need to change all my details."

"Well," she told him, "Usually we need your guardians to come in and fill out a form, but," she looked at his file. He was a straight A student with barely even a single detention to his name, and had transferred from the exclusive Dalton Academy with letters of praise from a number of his former teachers. She figured she could bend the rules for this one, all things considered. "I think we can take your word at face value."

His shoulders slumped with obvious relief, and he thanked her profusely, giving her Puck's address and nominating Noah and Ruth Puckerman as his two emergency contacts.

-?-

The first couple of periods passed in a haze and, by the time his lunch period came around, Blaine found himself surrounded by the Glee club, who manhandled him into the choir room. Mr Schue emerged from his office, roused by all the noise his kids were making.

"What's going on?" he asked, frowning at the group, wondering why they'd all backed Blaine into a corner, Sam positioned in front of his friend, trying to get the others to back off.

The teenagers froze and turned to face him.

"Blaine's acting weird," Sugar eventually told him, turning back and locking her gaze on Blaine's. "We wanna know why."

"And I told you that he'd tell you when he was ready," Sam snapped back, still positioned protectively in front of the shorter boy.

Artie rolled forward, frowning at the blond. "Dude, you know what's going on?"

"Totally beside the point." Sam said, shaking his head.

"We're supposed to be a team," Artie countered.

Joe nodded. "We're not supposed to keep secrets."

"Yeah," Sam sighed, "but we're not supposed to bully each other into submission either."

Will sighed. He could see this escalating quickly. "Guys..."

"Bullying? Sam, we're not bullying. We just want to know what's wrong so we can help!" Tina explained, ignoring her teacher's warning tone.

"This is _just_ like when my family was living in that motel," Sam told her. "Sometimes, there's stuff we go through that we don't _want_ to just come out and tell people. We've _all_ had those sorts of issues. How did you guys feel when you were forced to share your situations before you were ready?"

"But things got better after you told us and we helped out," Brittany said, confused.

Sam groaned in frustration. "That's beside the point!"

"Guys..." Will tried again.

"How?" Sugar asked, coming to stand beside Artie's chair. "How is it beside the point?"

"Because the only reason the truth came out was to stop the infighting and the rumours," Sam replied, running his hand through his hair. "I wasn't ready to tell you, and I still resent that I had to."

Tina's eyes widened. "What? You resent us?"

"That's not what I said!"

"_Guys_!"

"No, Sam, that's exactly what you just said."

"What? No it's not!"

"Guys, _enough_!"

"Look, respectfully," Artie said, "Stay out of this Mister Schue."

Will scowled. "Now, wait a second-"

Before anyone else could say anything, Cooper -of all people- burst into the room, proving, to Blaine, that Murphy's law was well and truly in effect. He wondered, idly, whether his parents would be next. And, hey, maybe Kurt as well, seeing as people were apparently flying in from all over the country to join the fray.

"Blaine Anderson!" Cooper exclaimed, attention directed solely on his brother, "You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do."

"Cooper," Will tried to intervene, "Why don't you and Blaine take my office and-"

"I called home yesterday," the advertising star continued, ignoring the teacher in preference of getting to the bottom of what was going on with his kid brother, "and when I asked to speak to you, Dad said the darndest thing. D'you know what that was?" He didn't give the boy a chance to reply, just plowed onwards with his rant. "He said that you _disgraced_ the family and that you don't live there anymore." There was a collective gasp, but Cooper wasn't done. "So, after he hung up on me, and your cell was busy, I called Kurt, only to find out that you and he broke up _weeks _ago and he had no idea what was going on with you because he was in New York. He's really worried about you now, by the way." Blaine kept his gaze trained on the toes of his shoes, his cheeks bright red. Sam turned to face him, his hand clamped on Blaine's shoulder, a breath away from telling Blaine to just walk away. But Cooper was on a roll now. "I didn't know what else to do, Blaine, so I caught the first flight out here this morning, came straight here and I need to know what the hell is going on, and you're going to tell me right now!"

"Hey!" Sam whirled back around to glare at Cooper. "I don't care who you are, you don't get to storm in here and yell at him like that!"

"Sam," Blaine tried to calm the blond, but Cooper was already on the attack.

"Oh really? Are _you _the reason my kid brother has suddenly moved out of home, blondie?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm a _friend _who is trying to help him when he's going through something huge, not make him feel worse or more stressed out than necessary."

"I really think that maybe Blaine and Cooper should take this into my office." Will attempted to be the voice of reason again, but remained, unsurprisingly, ignored.

Sick of being spoken about as if he wasn't actually in the room, and pushed to breaking point by all of the raised voices, Blaine snapped. "I have a daughter!" he cried, pushing past Sam, causing every eye in the room to focus on him. His voice softened. "A baby girl."

"But...you're capital G gay," Brittany frowned, speaking first, while Cooper's jaw was busy meeting the ground. "And Kurt was a boy. Two boys can't make a baby. And the stork doesn't bring them; Santana explained it all to me when I thought I was pregnant that time the stork came."

"Dude," Sam placed his hand on Blaine's shoulder, ignoring Brittany's patented version of crazy. "You don't have to do this right now. You don't have to explain yourself -or her- to them."

"No, I do." Blaine insisted quietly, at the same moment as Cooper recovered enough to exclaim: "The _hell_ he doesn't!"

"Blaine..."

"It's okay, Sam. I'm not ashamed of her. I was going to tell everyone during Glee this afternoon anyway." The other students looked away guiltily. Blaine gestured for them to sit at the risers, and they did, though none (other than Brittany and Sam) would look him in the eye. Cooper and Mr Schuester remained standing, the former still in shock, the latter hovering awkwardly. Blaine took a fortifying breath. "So...This weekend was a big one for me," he started, quickly giving them all the cliff's notes version, resolutely avoiding his brother's gaze when he admitted to initially assuming that the baby belonged to him. Once he finished his story he looked away, unable to stomach anyone's pity.

"Your parents kicked you out and you're living with Puck." Sam reiterated the part of the story that he hadn't known anything about, trying to wrap his mind around the news. "Wow. Dude, are you okay?"

Blaine offered him a small smile. "You know, living with Puck isn't exactly torture..."

"_So_ not the part I was worried about."

Swallowing, Blaine looked away again. "I know. And yes, being kicked out of home was awful, but I'm doing pretty well, all things considered."

"All things...? _Blaine,_" Cooper finally spoke, his tone incredulous. "A baby? Have you-"

"If you even _think _about asking me if I've really thought this through, you can walk back out that door-" Blaine pointed towards the hallway, "-and forget that I and, by extension, your niece even exist."

Cooper nodded, seeing the determination and fire in Blaine's eyes and knowing there would be no changing his mind. "Okay," he acquiesced, hands raised in surrender. "Okay."

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and nobody moved. Will eventually shepherded most of the students out of the room, telling Blaine that he and Cooper could stay to talk things out properly and that he would send notice to Blaine's afternoon teachers that he wouldn't be attending their classes.

And then the Anderson brothers were alone.

"A baby," Cooper eventually broke the silence, dropping into a seat and carding his fingers through his hair. "Seriously, Blaine? You're the mature, responsible, _gay _one. Safe sex isn't rocket science. How did _you_ forget to use a fucking condom?"

Blaine rolled his eyes at the profanity, but sighed. "I've asked myself the same thing over and over," he admitted. "I was _so_ drunk, and so, so stupid." He sat on the piano bench, fiddling with the keys. "I hate myself for that night for a number of reasons. I cheated on Kurt, obviously, and it took finding a baby on my doorstep nine months later to _recall _the event. I drank enough to take away all of my inhibitions, so much so that I slept with a girl." He shuddered. "I don't even know _how, _because...gross. So not a turn on. I hate myself for obviously being so out of it that I didn't care about what I was doing. But I _don't_ hate myself for creating life. I mean, I wish it could have been in a few years' time, and in a more practical way, like with invitro and a surrogate, but...she's so perfect, Coop."

"But...a baby, Blaine. A _baby_. You're _Seventeen_! And, oh yeah, _apparently homeless._" Cooper shook his head. "Kids are expensive. And-"

"You know, it's starting to sound a lot like you're trying to talk me in to giving her up." Blaine folded his arms across his chest and glared at his brother. "I _have _thought this through. I'm not expecting this to be easy. But, God, Cooper, I love her. She's this perfect little person and she's half me and I _made _her. Not intentionally, sure, but I did. And I have this whole network of people who want to help me and support me in this, because they can see how serious I am, how important she is to me. If I was completely alone, I probably couldn't do it, but I'm not." He hated feeling pitied, he hated taking charity, but, for the sake of his daughter, he was going to swallow his pride and be thankful that he had such awesome people in his life. And one day he would make it up to them all. "Please trust me on this, Coop. I can't possibly think that I'll regret wanting my daughter."

"You've only known about her since Saturday!"

"I know it sounds crazy," Blaine swallowed over the lump that was forming in his throat. "I know it does, but...after I realised she was mine, and I held her in my arms, I couldn't imagine ever loving anyone more than I loved her right then. There's this moment where you look down at your kid and your entire world shifts on its axis because they've suddenly become the most important thing ever. And it doesn't matter that her mother didn't tell me she was pregnant; that I didn't get the usual eight months of panic and worry and derision for becoming another statistic in freaking small town Ohio. It doesn't matter that I didn't meet her or hold her until she was over a week old. Because I still felt that instant connection. And I will do anything I have to to make sure that she has a good life with me." He shook his head. "You haven't even asked her name."

Cooper exhaled, "I...this is a lot to take in, Blaine."

Throwing his hands in the air, Blaine pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the room. "Wrong answer!" he called over his shoulder, ignoring Cooper's cries to come back and let him explain.

-?-

"Puckerman!" Beiste called across the field, to where Puck was leading a group of freshmen in their warm up laps. He picked one of the boys to take his place, before jogging off course to meet Shannon.

"'Sup, Coach?"

"Your boy, Anderson, has been in the gym for the last hour, beating the ever-lovin' daylights out of a punching bag. I thought he was going to tire himself out, but it ain't happened yet. Tried to get him to open up, but he's not talkin'. I'm all for gettin' your frustrations out in a productive way, but he's missing class and there's only so long I can let that happen under my watch."

Puck's forehead crinkled in concern. Blaine had been worried about leaving Emily this morning, but he hadn't been frustrated or angry. What could have pushed him to that level so quickly? "You want me to talk to him?"

Shannon sighed, realising that it was akin to letting her assistant go for the rest of the day. "I figure, if anyone's gonna get him to open up, it's you."

Puck nodded and turned in the direction of the gym. "Thanks Coach." He fished his phone out of his pocket to find six text messages and three missed calls. Two of the calls and four of the texts all belonged to Sam, and basically explained the shit that had gone down in the choir room during their lunch period. Puck cursed quietly when he read that Cooper had turned up and hadn't exactly been a supportive guy before Schuester had forced everyone who wasn't an Anderson out of the choir room. The last missed call had been from Blaine, accompanied by two messages:

_Are you free right now?_

And then:

_Forget it. I need to hit something._

Puck picked up the pace, making it to the gym in record time, then took a moment to admire the scene in front of him before he interrupted it. Blaine was dressed in his usual gym attire: loose basketball shorts and a singlet that gaped enough in the underarms to show the beginnings of his defined pectorals, and he was stationed in front of the boxing bag with his back to the door. From Puck's position, he could see every ripple in Blaine's muscular shoulders as the younger boy jabbed at the worn leather. The slightly tanned skin was slick with sweat, and Puck watched a droplet of the substance slide down from Blaine's neck, down the centre of his oh-so-toned back, where the white material was soaked and plastered to him like a second skin.

Watching Blaine box had always been a sight to behold, but ever since Puck had acknowledged his growing attraction for the other boy, it had become something else entirely. It was hot. _Fucking _hot.

Realising that now was _not _the time to surprise Blaine with a boner that said 'I _love it _when you're all worked up', Puck cleared his throat and entered the room. "I just got your messages," he said calmly, walking over and holding the bag still and out of Blaine's reach, forcing the shorter boy to look at him. "What's wrong?"

Blaine's muscles trembled with overexertion, but he scowled at his outlet being taken away. "Like the rest of the Glee club haven't already filled you in," he scoffed.

Puck sighed. "Okay, so Sam might have sent me a couple of texts, telling me what went down at lunch." He pushed Blaine onto the nearest bench, sitting beside him, pressing their thighs together lightly. "I'm not going to ask if you're okay, because it's obvious you're not." He waited a beat. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about? My brother's an ass, and my friends are too nosy for their own good."

"Hey!"

Blaine couldn't help the huff of laughter that escaped him at Puck's scandalized tone. "There are a couple of exceptions," he shrugged.

"Better," Puck nodded. "Why's your brother an ass?"

Blaine felt his throat tighten and directed his gaze to the ceiling. "He, uh, he's not as supportive of my decision to keep Em as I thought he would be."

The older boy blinked in surprise. "What? Did he actually say-"

"He didn't have to!" Blaine cut him off angrily, surging to his feet and pacing. "He asked if I had thought it through, like, twice, and then proceeded to lecture me about how expensive kids are. And when I pointed out that he hadn't even asked what her name was, he told me it was 'a lot to take in'." He used his fingers to make air quotes. "As if _he's _the one actually being effected here."

"Whoa, okay, calm down." Puck stood up and grabbed Blaine's shoulders, forcing him to stop. "Are you really surprised that your kind-of-narcissistic big brother would say something like that? You've said it before; Cooper can take a while to process things." Blaine had spent an entire night over the summer just bitching about his brother. Puck, in turn, had bad-mouthed his deadbeat dad. The experience had been cathartic, and both boys had come away from it with a better understanding of the other's family dynamics. "Did he come right out and say that he wasn't going to support you?"

"No..." Blaine looked at his feet.

Puck checked his watch, then slung his arm across Blaine's shoulders. "Okay, so, what you're gonna do is get a shower, then you're gonna go to Glee and sing shit out with those well-intentioned but nosey-as-fuck friends of yours. Then, after that, you're gonna call your brother and talk this through." When Blaine refused to budge, he gave him an encouraging squeeze. "And after _that, _we'll go get Em and head on home, okay?"

The thought of his daughter was enough to perk Blaine back up, and he nodded. He'd get through the afternoon for her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - Again with the wonderful responses! I love having my ego -amongst other things- stroked! Bwahaha!**

**Loki Firefox, I haven't discussed this with you either, so... Eep! I'm really interested to hear what you have to say. Hopefully, you don't think I've gone completely off the deep end. Darren would need to rescue me, and we all know how you'd feel about that. :P **

**Brulian4ever, I'm glad you like my attempt at realism (considering how unrealistic the plot really is) and I hope my Cooper doesn't disappoint.**

**So, fair warning, this chapter deals with a sensitive topic. I've tried not to have my own opinion flouted, but, as I'm the author, of course there are overtones, despite my best efforts to keep thm balanced. **

**This is a work of fiction, and it is not intended to offend anyone or refute anyone else's beliefs or opinions. I hope I have dealt with this issue with the amount of tact and maturity that it requires. If you feel I haven't, please don't hesitate to offer a suggestion on how to fix it.**

**Needless to say, this is definitely AU and OOC. Though, if you've read this far, you're already expecting that. Please enjoy! Reviews keep me motivated!**

* * *

Walking back into the choir room was harder than Blaine had assumed it would be, even though he had Puck standing right beside him, the older boy's hand splayed out across the base of his spine, urging him forward - a familiar position of late. He needn't have worried though; the second he crossed the threshold, he was enveloped in a group hug, his friends apologising and telling him how much they cared and begging for pictures of his baby all at once.

He laughed, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he relaxed into the many-armed embrace, and promised everyone that he'd show them photos if they'd let him breathe again. Eventually, Mr Schue called them to order, clasping his hand down on Blaine's shoulder in his own show of support before the boy took his seat.

"Okay, guys, I had a lesson of the week planned, but," he glanced apologetically at Blaine, "a special guest has a message that he really wants to get across, and, well, I'm going to let him try."

And then Cooper strode back into the choir room from the office.

_Naturally_, Blaine thought sarcastically. Mr Schuester was all about 'singing it out' -not to mention meddling in the affairs of his students- so it made perfect sense that he would hand the floor over to Cooper while Blaine was trapped on the back row of the risers. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. At least he wouldn't have to phone his brother after Glee; he could deal with it right now, which meant that he'd get it over and done with faster, which meant getting to pick Emily up earlier.

Cooper sat down at the piano without preamble and started to play the opening notes to a song Blaine vaguely recognised. He sat up a little straighter in his chair. Why would his brother choose Ben Folds Five? He didn't even think Cooper _knew _any Ben Folds stuff. And why _this_ song? It was so depressing, and had nothing to do with what Blaine was going through, but rather the opposite, if his memory of the song served him correctly.

When Cooper started to sing, his voice was raw and emotive, not the over the top act that he usually gave. He kept his eyes glued to his fingers as they danced skillfully across the ivory, his voice dipping and wavering -almost threatening to crack- with the emotion of the lyrics, his adam's apple bobbing tellingly.

And then Blaine _knew. _

Blaine's eyes widened as realisation struck him, and his arms dropped to his sides, useless. _No. _No way was Cooper singing _this_ song with so much emotion because he'd _lived_ it. "Jesus," he breathed, watching his cad of a brother fall apart, the man's voice cracking altogether when he delivered the final verse.

".._And I broke down, 'cause I was tired of lying._" Cooper's eyes chose that moment to meet his brother's, making the lyric all the more pointed. He looked back down at the keys quickly, still singing, throwing all he had left of himself into the music, his shoulders working as he all but attacked the keys, bringing the song to its intended end.

When the song was over, the room was silent.

Cooper picked at his nails anxiously, mustering the courage to look up and face his kid brother. It wasn't like any other time he'd been in front of an audience. _That _was acting. This? This was him, pure and raw and _broken, _and he was genuinely worried about Blaine's reaction. Licking his lips, he looked up at his brother and found himself talking, the words escaping before he could properly think them. "It was my second year of College," he confessed quietly. "We'd been dating a while. And then..." he swallowed thickly. "Well, I guess you got that part. I...we couldn't have a kid. She wanted fame too much, and I told myself I felt the same. It...It was almost too easy to take care of. After...well. We broke up. I kind of resented her, and she definitely hated me. And I kept on thinking 'what if?', you know? I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't _bring_ myself to tell anyone." He shook his head. "It took me _years _to get over it. At least, I thought I'd gotten past it."

"Coop," Blaine started, realising where his brother was going with this.

"No, I have to get this out. Blaine, I made a mistake, okay? I've never..." He swallowed, feeling his mouth go dry. "It's been almost eight years and I still can't get it out of my head, but I've always been able to justify it to myself. We were young. Too young. A baby was going to be too hard, even with two of us working together. Even if we gave it up for adoption, not that she would have even considered-" he cut himself off. "It doesn't matter. But, then today you...you tell me that _you_, at Seventeen, three years younger than I was, are managing it as a single dad, that you _love _your kid and couldn't imagine not raising her, and I feel guilty, okay? It's not...I'm not against you doing this. I'm just...it's hard for me to handle because that could have been me and I took the easy way out."

"Easy? Cooper..." Blaine's voice was thick with emotion, the idea that he was _almost_ an uncle, that he could have had a seven year old niece or nephew running around right now, was surreal and heartbreaking all at once. His carefree, easy-go-lucky big brother was _hurting _and it was so blatantly obvious, Blaine wondered how he'd been able to conceal it so well for so long. "I...that's _not _the way I see it." He realised that he was lucky; the girl from the party could easily have terminated her pregnancy and he would have been none the wiser. His perfect, beautiful daughter could have just ceased to exist, without him ever having had the chance to be in her life. The thought made his stomach roll, and he was out of his seat and hugging his brother before he knew it. "God, Coop, I'm so sorry."

The rest of the club were silent, too stunned to speak, too afraid to intrude upon the intimate moment between the siblings. A number of them had been on the verge of tears during Cooper's song, Tina especially trying to stifle her sobs when Cooper had started to tell his story.

Puck sat next to Mr Schue in the front row of the risers, a myriad of emotions swirling within him. He thought of Beth, of course, and his relief that, while Quinn had fought for adoption against keeping her, he'd never had to consider the other alternative. He was all about a woman's right to choose, but if it had been Beth? He was conflicted.

Then he thought of how this news was affecting Blaine, and worried for his friend. And then there was Cooper. He didn't know the guy very well, but Blaine had told him so many stories of their childhood that Puck felt vaguely connected to him (and the fact that he wanted to date the younger Anderson made him feel the need to be more attentive to the one member of Blaine's family he actually cared about). It didn't take a genius to see that Cooper Anderson hadn't really come to terms with aborting what would have been his kid, even if it had been the right choice for him and his girlfriend at the time.

Puck bumped Mr Schue with his shoulder. "I don't think you're gonna get much out of the club today," he murmured, overstepping his bounds and not caring at all.

Will nodded. "Point taken." He stood and cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, uh, how about we leave it there for today and head on home," he addressed the assembled teenagers, feeling completely out of his depth. He wondered if Emma would have any pamphlets that could even scratch the surface on the issues raised today.

Surprisingly, the teenagers didn't fight him as they had at lunch, but gathered their belongings and left the room quietly. He turned to see Noah placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder, gently reassuring the younger boy that he'd be waiting in Shannon's office. Will decided that Puck had the right idea, and followed him down the halls.

"So...Blaine's living with you now?" Will eventually asked, trying to dispel some of the tension. "How's that working out?"

The look Puck gave him was pure suspicion. "Have you and Beiste been talking?"

"Everyday...wait, about what?"

"Nothing." Puck shook his head, moving to Shannon's desk and picking up a stack of paperwork he'd promised to file earlier. "Forget it." He turned to the filing cabinet and started his task, glad for the distraction. "I think it's going okay," he eventually spoke again. "Blaine and Emily living with me, I mean."

"Emily? That's her name? Blaine's daughter?"

Noah knew he had a sappy smile lifting the corners of his lips as he nodded. "Yeah. Emily Rose Anderson. He didn't pick it, but it's kinda perfect."

Schue smiled back at him. "It's a very pretty name."

"Yeah. It suits her, y'know?" Puck paused, sliding a piece of paper into the appropriate lever-arch file. "You wanna see a photo? I know, it's kinda Blaine's job to be all gushing parent, but I have some on my phone."

Warning bells were starting to go off in Will's head at the lovestruck expression on Puck's face, but he beamed and said that, yes, he would love to see some photos. Puck pulled out his trusty iPhone and fiddled a bit, before bringing the screen into Will's line of sight. "First photo ever," he declared proudly, and Will found himself looking at an image of Blaine -hair mussed, face flushed and eyes red-rimmed- holding a tiny bundle swaddled in pink. From the angle the photo was taken, he could just make out the scrunched up forehead and nose of the distressed infant, her skin a similar shade to the blanket around her.

Puck's thumb swiped a couple of times with eerily practiced precision (given that he wasn't even looking at the screen) and then there was another photo in front of Will, this one of the little girl alone and fast asleep, spread out on a navy comforter, pillows in matching cases positioned strategically around her, blocking her in. One look at her relaxed features and Will could tell she was related to Blaine. Her hair was the same shade as his, curling in adorable tufts along her crown, and her jaw mirrored her father's exactly. The nose was also similar, and he wondered what her eyes looked like. Puck swiped again and he no longer needed to wonder; they were a dark shade of blue, and he guessed they'd soon turn into carbon copies of Blaine's, their shape pretty much identical to the former warbler's.

"She looks just like him," he eventually said, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "You're being a great friend to him, Puck. I'm proud of you."

Puck shrugged and pocketed his phone, not wanting to admit that his motivations were vaguely selfish. Would he have done the same thing for, say, Finn? Probably not, and they'd been friends since pre-school. He hated to acknowledge, even to himself, that he was doing this for reasons other than pure friendship, and it scared him that his attraction to Blaine hadn't faded even when he'd realised that to get involved with him now would mean long-haul commitment. Hell, he'd decided the instant that he picked Emily up for the first time, holding her warm, squirming body against his chest, that even if he never plucked up the courage to ask Blaine out, he'd always be involved in her life, even just as Uncle Puck, her Dad's badass friend.

He wondered how long he had left before people started to work it out. His mother had been the first person he'd disclosed his developing feelings to; his impromptu confession to Shannon following a few weeks later, after Blaine himself had suggested he ask for her help to get into College.

He should have guessed that he couldn't keep it hidden from his Ma; she was crazy perceptive about these things. She'd picked up on his attraction to Blaine the first time he'd visited the Puckerman home over the summer. And hadn't _that _been a fun conversation to have with his mother!

She had pulled him into the kitchen while Blaine and the other guys were engrossed with the Xbox, pushed him into a chair at the table, and asked him when he was planning on telling her that he was gay. She hadn't been disappointed or disgusted, just curious, and he'd blushed and denied the label.

"I'm not, Ma," he'd said, "I'm not _anything_. I still like girls. But.."

"But you like this Blaine boy more."

He'd nodded, relieved to have finally told someone about the feelings that had been bubbling inside him. "It kind of snuck up on me," he confessed, so glad that he could be honest and open with his mom. "One minute, we're laughing and goofing around, the next I'm thinking about how nice his eyes are, or how amazing his abs are." He'd looked away, suddenly fascinated by the formica tabletop. "I've never been against the whole guy on guy thing, but I've never really been interested either. But with Blaine..." he trailed off, not really wanting to tell his mother just how much thought he'd given it. Endless hours spent wondering what it would be like to kiss his friend, to do _more_ than kiss.

At first he'd panicked when the thought of sex with his male best friend hadn't fazed him (other than to make him harder than he'd ever been before), but that panic had faded quickly. Blaine had become his best friend. He was funny and smart and hot as hell: there was nothing wrong with wanting to be with him. "God, I'm crazy for him. And the more time I spend with him, the more I want to spend with him." He winced, "I sound like Bekah talking about that runt that pulls her pigtails at Temple!" He wasn't used to feeling this way. He made people swoon over him, not the other way around! But then Blaine would grin at him, and he'd forget why he even cared. "Oh, God, I'm _so_ screwed..."

Ruth had laughed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "He's a nice boy, Noah, but so are you. When you choose to be yourself, at any rate. And I've been seeing the real you a lot more since you started spending more time with him. Personally, I think you could both do a lot worse than each other."

"You're really okay with this?" Her approval meant more to him than he would actually admit, especially after the hell he'd put her through over the past few years.

"I will love and support you even if you put on a dress and call yourself Lola," she'd told him affectionately, and he'd scowled.

"Who told you about that?" When her eyes had widened in surprise, he'd realised his mistake and started to back-peddle lamely. "I mean, uh, like _that'll _ever happen. I may like a guy now, but I'm still _totally_ badass."

"Relax, Noah," she'd said, gathering glasses for soda to take out to the boys in the lounge room. "Sam showed me the photo." And before he could react -and promise to kill Sam Evans- she'd vanished back into the lounge room to be the perfect hostess to his friends.

"Puck," Will's voice broke into his musings, bringing him hurtling back to the present. He blinked a few times to see his former teacher frowning in front of him, clearly concerned. "Are you okay?"

He managed a convincing smile and a nod. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, Mr Schue. Just a bit tired, y'know?"

If Will thought he was lying, he let it drop anyway.

-?-

When Blaine finally found Puck, he'd brought Cooper along with him, and both Andersons looked emotionally wrung out. Awkward around the older man, Puck offered him a nod and a "Hey, man." before giving all of his attention to Blaine. His eyes were rimmed with red, and it was obvious he'd been crying. Instinctively, Puck moved forward and wrapped him in a hug. Why Blaine Anderson drew out his tactile side -the one reserved solely for his mother, sister, daughter and occasionally Finn's mom- he couldn't tell you. He had his suspicions, naturally, but putting his finger on the feeling made it all too real.

"You good?" he asked, giving his friend a masculine thump on his surprisingly broad shoulders before he pulled back from the hug.

"Yeah," Blaine's exhalation was shaky, but he nodded and gave Puck a small, genuine smile. "Thanks."

Cooper looked between the teens, frowning at the older one when their eyes met. He had a sneaking suspicion that this guy was interested in more from his brother than just friendship, and didn't think he looked at all trustworthy. Not in comparison to Kurt. Sweet, effeminate, _safe _Kurt Hummel. This other guy was the complete opposite. He was the walking definition of masculine; tall, muscular, oozing sex appeal and danger. He practically had 'juvenile delinquent' tattooed on his shaved head. _Surely_ there was no way Blaine would be interested in him.

But, looking at his kid brother, taking in the way his eyes seemed to brighten when he looked at his 'friend', Cooper knew he was kidding himself. Blaine was head over heels for this one.

Well, to Cooper that meant one thing. This new guy was gonna get the patented Cooper Anderson 'You Hurt My Brother and I _Will_ End You' talk. Slinging his arm across his short-ass brother's shoulders, he gave this Puck kid a predatory glare, all while maintaining a happy voice to avoid raising Blaine's suspicion. "So, when do I get to meet my niece, then?"

-?-

"Coop, this is Emily. Em, this is your Uncle Cooper," Blaine practically chirped, placing his daughter into his brother's waiting arms before taking a seat across from them. They were in the Berry family's living room, Puck and Leroy having left the room to allow the Anderson family have their moment in private.

Cooper exhaled in wonder as he held his niece for the first time. She was so small, a perfect miniature (albeit female) replica of Blaine. Though Cooper still wanted to ask if Blaine had considered the notion that she wasn't his, his doubts were allayed for the moment, and he was wrapped up in just how gorgeous Emily Rose Anderson was. She stared up at him, clearly unimpressed by the introduction to yet another stranger, forehead crinkling, small whimpers leaving her tiny lips. "I know," Cooper soothed quietly, shifting her to his shoulder and rubbing her back, "I know. You just want your Daddy, huh?"

Dear _God_, his kid brother was a _Daddy_. This was _real. _

_'Holy shit_!' He thought, the concept finally hitting him, his niece's warm little body bringing the entire situation out of the abstract and into reality. _'Blaine's a dad.' _Cooper swallowed hard and looked up and across at his brother, finally seeing how much he'd aged -how much he'd been forced to mature- because of the choices he'd made. "I'm proud of you, Blaine." And he was. Words couldn't express how much. He brought his niece -_Jesus, _he was someone's _uncle_!- back down from his shoulder, cradling her in this crook of his arm. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah, she is." Blaine was looking at her as though she was his entire world. Cooper supposed she kind of _was_.

"Bee, I-"

"Coop-"

They'd started in unison, chuckling awkwardly. Cooper gestured for Blaine to go first.

The teen sighed, eyes glued to his baby. "I'm sorry," he said forlornly.

That wasn't what Cooper had been expecting. "Sorry?" he repeated, "What for?"

"For doing this to you. Making you remember what you could have had. I...I didn't know, Coop, and I know this has gotta be hard for you, and-"

"Bee, stop. We've already been over this." They'd spent ages talking about it in the choir room once they'd been left on their own. He didn't want to be continually rehashing it. "We're not going to keep going around in circles _everytime_ I hold my niece. I know you didn't know because _no one_ knew, and I know you didn't knock someone up on purpose, because, hey, what teenager does? I made my choice in college and that's my burden to bear. _This,_" he nodded down at Emily, "is yours. Not that she's a burden per se," he hurried to amend, "but what's done is done, and from here on out we're both gonna have to deal with the consequences our own respective decisions. No more apologising. No more feeling guilty - either one of us, okay?"

"Okay..." Blaine stared at him, wide-eyed. "Now, who are you and what have you done with the _real_ Cooper? Because that _actually_ sounded rational."

Cooper rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. "Go on, then, laugh it up. You're only brave enough to tease me now because I'm holding your kid." It still felt wrong to say, but it made Blaine's eyes light up like a freaking Christmas tree when he did, which dulled the inevitable awkwardness of the moment considerably. He looked back down at the baby, who was drooling away quite contentedly, her little eyes darting around, trying to focus on her surroundings. "Her Mom's really never coming back?" he heard himself ask, before looking back across at his brother. He could tell that, even though it had only been a few days, it would probably kill Blaine if the woman that had birthed her suddenly turned up, declaring that she'd changed her mind.

"God, I hope she's not," Blaine replied, shaking his head. "I had Hiram look over the papers she left; they're pretty airtight. She couldn't get custody even if she did want her back." He shrugged. "Besides, there's the whole abandonment issue. She left her in a wicker basket on a doorstep without hanging around to make sure her plan would even pan out. That wouldn't look good for her if she reapplied for custody."

Cooper breathed a sigh of relief, running his index finger over an unbelievably soft cheek. "Good," he said, gasping as a tiny hand reached out and attempted to stop the blood flow to his finger. "_Wow, _she's so strong!"

"I know, right?" Blaine was suddenly animated. "Google tells me that's normal, but I swore she was, like, part Wonder Woman or something."

Cooper couldn't help but laugh. "Guess I know which costume to get you for Halloween, hey, Munchkin?"

"No way!" Puck's voice carried in from the kitchen, accidentally giving his eavesdropping away. "She's gonna be an Infant Mutant Ninja Turtle!"

Blaine groaned into his hands. "Puck!" he complained, though his tone belied his obvious fondness for his friend. "What happened to giving us privacy, huh?"

Puck and Leroy entered the room, neither looking particularly repentant. "Eh," Puck shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets to avoid reaching out and stealing Emily from Cooper's hold. "You guys kissed and made up. And you woulda' told me all about it later tonight anyway."

"Well, yeah." Blaine couldn't really argue with that, because he knew that he would have recounted the conversation over and over, wanting his best friend's input. "But, still..."

"But nothing. You know me; don't pretend you weren't expecting it."

Cooper watched the two banter, his desire to give Puck a stern talking to growing with each minute, because it wasn't just Blaine that the guy had the capacity to hurt, it was the little girl currently squirming in his embrace, too. And Cooper would be damned before he allowed some punk kid to screw with his niece's emotions. Oh, sure, she was only a few days old now, with very little understanding of her surroundings, but soon she would start getting attached to people. Noah Puckerman had better be damn serious about his feelings for Blaine _and _Emily before that happened.

-?-

"Puckerman," Cooper barked later that evening, after Ruth had invited him to stay for dinner, and Blaine had excused himself to put the baby down in her crib. "A word?"

Noah had kind of been expecting this. Cooper had been glaring at him all afternoon; it didn't take a genius to realise that his attraction to Blaine had not gone unnoticed by the elder Anderson. He nodded and gestured towards the front door. "Can we do this somewhere he won't overhear it?"

Thankfully Cooper agreed and they made their way onto the porch.

"Before you say anything," Puck started, forcing himself to meet Cooper's gaze, "I think Blaine's awesome, but he's going through way too much shit right now, and I don't wanna complicate things, or make him uncomfortable. He's always gonna be my friend first."

Cooper blinked. He'd expected Puck to deny his blatant attraction, to scoff and try to maintain the womanizer reputation he'd apparently been infamous for. He'd expected that he'd have to try and console the former jock through his confusion before the inevitable threatening of his genetalia could commence. "So...you're admitting that you're interested in my kid brother?"

Puck looked at him like he was slow on the uptake. "Uh, _yeah_. Why wouldn't I? I mean, you obviously worked it out all on your own anyway. I've never really been good at being subtle."

"You know he's under the impression that you're straight, right? Until today, _I_ was under the same impression."

Puck ran a hand over his head with a sigh, "Yeah...I was sort of working up the courage to come out, sorta...and then Em happened and," he shrugged, "I can't do that to him. Not yet. Not when he's living here and it could make him feel, I don't know, obligated or uncomfortable or some shit."

Cooper ignored most of the boy's rational statement, stuck on one phrase. "Come out 'sorta'?"

"Well, I guess I'm Bi, for lack of a better way of describing it. I've acknowledged other dudes as attractive before," hell, he was still kind of enamoured by Sam's lips, not that he'd ever admit that to anyone _ever, _"but Blaine's the first guy I've actually _wanted_, y'know?"

"Uh huh," Cooper was skeptical, and he folded his arms, leaning against the wall beside him. "And how am I supposed to believe he's not just an experiment for you? Kids your age do that, you know. I mean, Emily's living proof when it all comes down to it. Blaine's always described himself as one hundred percent gay, then suddenly it's 'Oops! Baby.' He got it out of his system, decided he liked guys better-"

"Okay, firstly, I was sober all summer and _still_ wanted to jump Blaine's bones every time I saw him, whereas Blaine was drunk off his ass at that party, and he _still_ doesn't really remember it." Puck cut him off angrily, forgetting momentarily that he was addressing the object of his affection's big brother. "Second, he's my _bestfriend_, dude. You think, if I wasn't sure about my feelings, I'd want to risk losing that?"

"And are you?" Cooper questioned. "Sure about your feelings, I mean. Because it's not just about him anymore. You get that, right?"

"You think I'm stupid? Of course I get that! And whether I'm with him or not, I'm gonna be in that kid's life forever. I know better than _anyone_ what it's like to have someone just up and leave you when you're a kid, and it fucking_sucks_, man. No way am I doing that to Em."

Cooper hadn't expected that from Puck either. What kind of eighteen year old promised to stick around for a baby he had no genetic ties to? So he asked exactly that.

Puck clenched his fists at his sides,forcing himself to take a calming breath. "Look, dude, I get that you're doing your job as his big bro, and I respect that, but you know _nothing_ about me. I'm not a 'normal' eighteen year old. I helped raise my kid sister after my dad ran out on us, and I saw what being a sole parent did to my mom. I've already told you - Blaine's my best friend, and I _care_ about Emily; no way am I letting him go through this alone when I'm perfectly capable of helping him."

"And when things get hard, or you find someone else you want to be with? What happens to them then?" Cooper glared. "You've got to make up your mind now whether you're doing this as just a friend, or if you're serious about a long-term commitment to Blaine, because you'll break both their hearts if you stay indecisive. And if that happens? I _will_ end you."

Puck nodded, his eyes trained on Cooper's. "If that happens?" he echoed solemnly, "I'll _let_ you."

-?-

"Wait...you're _sleeping_ with him?!" Cooper's eyes just about bugged out of his skull as he followed Blaine into the bedroom after Emily started crying. He'd done a double take at the room's set up, eyes quickly sizing up the two bedside tables, each with their own individualized assorted clutter, one holding two bow-ties and a copy of Vogue, the other housing a a worn copy of _Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone_ and a variety of guitar picks. "This is _not_ cool. I am _not _alright with this."

Blaine huffed as he pulled his red-faced daughter up out of the crib. "Would you keep it down?" he asked his brother, quickly realising that this was a diaper cry. Within a few moments he had all the supplies laid out on the bed, Emily spread out on top of the designated towel. "And it's not like that, Coop."

Cooper crinkled his nose as he watched his brother change the soiled item with what looked like practiced ease. "Really?" he questioned, "because it's looking a lot like that from where I stand." He took a step back as the dirty diaper was wrapped up and placed aside to be thrown into the trash.

"Seriously? Coop, he's _straight. _And we've got a baby in the room with us. A baby who wakes up every couple of hours during the night. These things aren't exactly conducive to anything you're thinking of." Blaine brushed his lips over the soft, pale skin of her belly (a move he'd totally stolen from Puck) before dressing her back up. "That's better, isn't it, honey?" he addressed her, stroking her fine hair gently, willing her back to sleep. She squirmed and whimpered, and he sighed, standing back up before lifting her up against his shoulder.

Cooper knew it wasn't his place to out Puck, but the guy hadn't told him that he was sharing a bed with Blaine. "Look, just...I don't like it, okay. I'm allowed to be protective of you; you're my kid brother."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "Fine, okay. But trust me when I tell you that this is all above board. He's a friend, and it's not like we haven't shared close quarters before. If I was straight, would you be concerned about it being inappropriate?"

"If you were straight, would _you_ be as comfortable with it?"

Blaine's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

"I see the way you look at him, Blaine, I'm not stupid." Cooper sighed, glad, at least, that Blaine was obtuse enough to have not noticed how reciprocated his attraction was. And vice versa for Puck, really. Both teens were so caught up in their own drama, and so afraid of ruining their friendship, that they were missing all the signs. Cooper could only hope this would continue to happen until one or the other actually lost interest and Puck moved on.

It wasn't that he didn't want Blaine to be happy, but he had to think of Emily now, and that would be difficult enough to manage without the addition of teenaged romance. When he was older and more settled and he found someone appropriate (_LikeKurt_, Cooper couldn't help but think) he could start focusing on a serious relationship and another father-figure for his daughter. And this Puck guy, genuine though he sounded, was way too much of a wild card. He wasn't even Blaine's type! No, he was just a crush, and Blaine would get over it soon enough. They worked well as friends, no need to rock that boat.

"And he's _straight, _Cooper." Blaine answered, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. "I think he's hot, yeah, but I'm not stupid either. He's my best friend. My straight best friend. I'm not going to do anything to ruin that."

"Good," Cooper encouraged, quelching the feeling of guilt that bubbled up at the thought of his meddling. "You don't want to make things awkward. He's a good friend."

Blaine nodded, smothering his disappointment. Cooper was right, of course, but it still hurt to hear the words he'd been thinking actually spoken aloud by his big brother. "Yeah," he agreed, forcing himself to sound happy, nuzzling Emily's tiny head for his own comfort. "He really is."

**A/N- Cooper's song was 'Brick' by Ben Folds Five. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - So, again, I love you all. Your responses really are a huge part of what keeps me entertained enough with this story to write it. **

**Lokibear, my foxy friend, here's that Kurt scene I promised you. I like to think he's in character. **

**Poor Blainers. How I love to hurt him so.**

* * *

"Dude, you're gonna have to call Kurt at some point you know." Puck told Blaine the next afternoon as they sat side by side on the couch in the living room, Emily on her back on a play mat in front of them, quite happily sucking on her fist.

Blaine sighed. He'd been trying to put the concept of breaking the news to his ex-boyfriend off for as long as possible. When Cooper had left the previous evening to go back to L.A, he'd urged Blaine to get in touch with the boy he'd accidentally worried when he'd been frantically trying to track his brother down. Blaine knew that it would only be a matter of time before Kurt demanded answers, and he also knew that the revelation of Emily's existence was going to be difficult for the fashionista to handle. As it was, he'd avoided all of Kurt's texts and calls (and there had been a lot of them), sending off a few scant replies along the lines of _'I'm fine, I'll Skype you soon.' _

"I know," he told Puck, keeping his eyes trained on Emily. "But I...I don't want to hurt him. And this _is_ going to hurt him. I mean, I cheated. And I told him I was a virgin. I mean, I thought I was at the time. But still, I lied."

"Well, there's no way around hurting him." Puck replied with a shrug. "I'd be doin' it like a bandaid; fast and simple, and maybe the pain won't last as long. As for the virgin thing..." he sighed, "Look at it this way, man; you were still a virgin in all the ways that mattered. You didn't even remember having sex before, and, plus, dude, it was a chick. You were still a virgin to gay sex."

Blaine swallowed, thinking that having _this_ conversation with _this_ friend was a bad idea. Even though it was out of context, his brain took Puck's voice saying the phrase 'gay sex' and just ran with it. He shifted uncomfortably, and was glad that Puck simply seemed to mistake it for discomfort with the conversation. "So, you think I should Skype him? Like, as soon as possible?"

"Yeah. You know it's gonna suck, but I think you're better off getting it done as quickly as you can. Besides, how long do you think it'll be before Rachel finds out from her dads? It'd be _way_ worse if she told Kurt before you did. The longer you leave it, the more it's gonna hurt him. And you."

Blaine sighed and pulled out his phone, shooting off a text. He received a reply almost instantly. His hands shook as he read it. "So...five minutes is pretty soon, huh?"

"I'll be here for you, okay?" Puck's hand was on Blaine's back, rubbing the same soothing circles he used to calm Emily down when she was having a rough night. It took Blaine a moment to realise that he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Confrontation was _not_ one of his favourite things. "Blaine, dude, you're gonna get through this."

Blaine nodded and went to retrieve his laptop. He went through the motions of logging into his account and felt his heart hammering in his chest when Puck excused himself from the lounge room, promising that he'd be in the kitchen if Blaine needed him. Kurt's name popped up on the screen only a few seconds later, and Blaine's stomach knotted painfully.

_Oh, God. _Blaine felt ill. His eyes welled with tears as Kurt -the first boy he'd ever loved- stared back at him, concern furrowing his brow. "Hey," Kurt's voice was calming, so sweet and friendly and full of love and support, it almost made Blaine forget that they'd broken up a couple of months back.

"Hi," he managed, his throat tight.

"Blaine," the word was said in the same soft way that had never failed to take Blaine's breath away, "Honey, where are you? What's going on? Cooper called me, he said you'd left home?" All questions he'd asked via text and voicemail; the ones Blaine had been studiously avoiding.

Blaine licked his lips, shifting anxiously. Why had they had such an amicable split? Why hadn't Blaine ranted and raved and distanced Kurt from him when he'd had the chance? Because this was going to be hard enough without having to face Kurt-his-friend (rather than Kurt-his-ex) and the endearments and concern were crushing him. "I...I did something stupid," he eventually confessed, fixating his gaze on the centre of the screen, rather than at the camera or Kurt's computer-screen eyes. "Something bad."

Kurt leaned forward, and it looked to Blaine as if he was pressing his hand against his own screen, trying to comfort him despite the miles between them. "Whatever it is, I'm still here for you, even if we're not dating. You were my best friend."

Blaine groaned and hung his head in his hands. "Stop," he pleaded, "Just...stop. Stop being so nice."

"What? Blaine, that's rediculous." On his end of the conversation, Kurt felt awful. He hated seeing Blaine so distressed. "I'm not going to stop being nice. You're obviously upset and-"

"God! Kurt, I cheated on you!" The words flew from Blaine's mouth without warning and he clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see Kurt's broken expression, not wanting to see how much pain he was inflicting. _Like a bandaid,_ he reminded himself, the voice in his head belonging to Puck. (Really, he needed to get out more; his infatuation was getting out of hand.)

"You...what?" Kurt sounded confused. "Honey, we broke up after I graduated, remember? I-"

Blaine made a strangled sort of sound. "No!" he cut his ex off, shaking his head emphatically, before taking a deep breath. "No. I...last year. There was a party. At Wes'. I...I drank. A _lot_. And I...I...I..." The words wouldn't come. He dragged a hand through his hair, gripping at his curls, groaning piteously. How was he supposed to explain this? _How_?

As if she was picking up on her father's distress, Emily started to cry from her spot on the floor, the sobs escalating to wails pretty quickly. Without any further comment to Kurt, Blaine dove off the couch, scooping his baby up and clutching her to his chest. "It's okay, Em, it's okay." He bounced her gently, pacing behind the laptop -ignoring Kurt's calls for him to come back and start explaining, and "Is that a _baby? _Blaine, where the hell _are_ you?"- murmuring at her until she quietened. When she did, he sat back down on the couch, baby in his arms, ready as he'd ever be to face Kurt. _Like a bandaid. _

"Whose baby is that, Blaine?" Kurt's voice was eerily calm, but Blaine knew his ex well enough to hear the underlying suspicion. Kurt was intelligent, he could piece the story together well enough by now: Blaine had been kicked out of home. Blaine had _cheated _drunkenly _last year._ (And 'Drunk Blaine' was notoriously horny, handsy and vaguely bisexual.) Then perhaps the most telling clue: Blaine was cradling a freaking _baby_!

Blaine forced himself to look directly at the camera, even when his voice wavered. "I think you already know the answer, Kurt."

Kurt blinked back at him, completely silent as he tried to process the unthinkable. There was no denial. Not even a: 'Kurt, don't be silly!'

Nothing. Just Blaine, a dark haired, hiccuping baby, and the concept that at some point the previous year (Kurt was willing to bet good money on it having been in the ballpark of eight to ten months ago), Blaine had gotten drunk at a party and _cheated_.

"Please say something." Blaine willed himself not to cry. He'd done enough of that. Besides, Kurt was the one who had the right to be hurting here, not him.

"What...what am I _supposed_ to say?" Never in a million years would Kurt have expected _this. _"_What_, Blaine? Are you sure it's even yours? Or, what? Should I jump straight to _congratulations_?"

Blaine bit his lip. "_Kurt_-" He leaned forward, the shift in his position causing Emily's head to face the computer, and Kurt's chest ached. As far as he could see, there was no use denying paternity; the bundle in pink was all Blaine. That cemented it somehow. Blaine had cheated -with a _woman_!- while they were dating. He'd _slept_ with someone else, probably without protection, and had made a baby.

Kurt reeled back suddenly, shaking his head. "_Blaine_. Oh, God. I can't...I'm going to need some time. A lot of time." His hands shook as he reached out to disconnect from their session, and he bit his lip to smother any emotional outbursts until he was well and truly logged off.

Blaine watched the screen go blank and felt his lower lip quivering. Though Kurt hadn't yelled, hadn't even raised his voice or cried, Blaine felt as though the other boy had slapped him. He deserved worse, of course, but not all that long ago he'd been in love with Kurt. The sudden dismissal stung worse than a verbal lashing ever could have.

"That sounded like it could have gone worse," Puck said, striding back into the room. He looked down at Blaine, who was staring at the closed Skype call with wide, wet eyes, and sighed. "He's not gonna be back for a while, dude."

"I know." He sounded defeated. "I just...I'd hoped..."

Puck offered him a sad smile. "I know. Part of you wanted him to squeal and come running back to Ohio to raise her with you, right?" He tried not to sound jealous as he said it, wishing that Blaine would move the hell on from Kurt-_fucking_-Hummel already.

And it wasn't as though Puck disliked Kurt. On the contrary, he respected his old Glee mate. Dude was frigging _fierce_. However, Kurt had unwittingly shattered Blaine Anderson when he'd dropped him and run off to New York, riding on Rachel Berry's coat tails, and it had been Puck that had picked up the pieces. Hell, it was Puck picking up the pieces now, damn it. Why did the little diva have such a hold on the curly haired boy?

Blaine levelled a glare at his friend. "I'm not an idiot," he told him, shaking his head. "And I wouldn't want that anyway." He'd loved Kurt, he really had, but the relationship was over; he'd mourned it and, though it had taken a little while, he'd moved on. _To crushing on my straight best friend, _he thought sardonically. _Because that's not a stupid move._ With a sigh, he leant forward and pushed the lid of his computer shut. "It's just, y'know, _he_ dumped _me_. I thought maybe he wouldn't be that hurt because he was over our relationship long before I was."

Puck stared at Blaine, furrowing his brown in vague skepticism. "That doesn't make a whole lot of sense, dude."

"I know. I do. I just wish this was easier."

Puck didn't know how to respond to that.

-?-

Blaine's phone wouldn't stop ringing. The calls had started about an hour after his Skype session with Kurt, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Kurt had spread the word, more than likely trying to seek comfort from those closest to him rather than out of spite. And, of course, that would have snowballed as all juicy gossip tended to do.

The first call had been Rachel, naturally, and Blaine had answered it with mild trepidation. He needn't have worried; she'd explained that Kurt was upset, but Blaine was still her friend and she understood how stressful the situation must be for him. When she'd asked if there was anything she could do to assist him, he'd actually laughed and told her that she had helped more than she even knew, before elaborating. (His daughter was wearing her clothes, after all.) Rachel had ended their call thrilled that her dads were providing a support network, and extracted a promise from Blaine to send her weekly updates with photos of Emily.

Then Finn had called. That one hadn't been as pleasant.

"_What'd I tell you about hurting my brother, dud_e?" Had been the question asked before Blaine could even breathe a greeting. No amount of apologising or attempts at explaining how _awful _he felt about having cheated (but not about Emily herself, because he could _never_ feel bad about her) could persuade Finn to calm down or back off. In the end, he'd sighed and told Finn that he was sick of trying to justify himself to someone who had _sort_-_of_-_almost_ been in a similar situation once (not to mention cheating on both Rachel and Quinn in an endless loop) and that he was sorry for disappointing Kurt, but, as their relationship was over long ago (at Kurt's choosing no less), none of this was Finn's concern. Then he'd pressed the red 'end call' button with satisfaction.

Since then, he'd avoided answering any calls. The entire New Directions of old had seemingly wanted to say their piece, but Blaine wasn't in the mood to deal with any of it. So he let his phone ring.

And then Noah's started.

"Mike, 'sup bro?" The older boy answered cheerily, ignoring Blaine's glower from the other side of the room. "Blaine? Yeah, I knew. Wasn't my place to tell. He's not answering? Huh. No. Why would I? _Oh_." Puck blushed, clearly caught in a lie. "Of _course _Evans told you. Yeah. Yeah, he's here. Hang on."

Blaine inhaled sharply when Noah's phone came hurtling towards him. He brought it up to his ear. "Hi Mike."

He was relieved to find that Mike was pretty supportive, too. In fact, when he eventally manned up and checked his voicemail, everyone was mostly just concerned for him. Quinn's message had been slightly tense, but not accusatory or judgemental, and Santana had merely asked if this meant he was into girls now, because she could 'totally give you some pointers, Hobbit.'

He'd replayed each message on speaker later that night, lying in bed next to Puck, and they'd both chuckled at some of the filthier things Santana had said.

"I feel bad for not giving them enough credit," Blaine confessed, putting his phone back on his nightstand.

"I'm sure they get it," Noah reassured him, itching to move over into the space that separated them and -not that he'd ever admit it out loud- just kind of snuggle up together. "They'll be there whenever you're ready to talk to them. They're all pretty cool like that."

"Yeah," Blaine nodded and sighed, stretching out onto his side, facing his best friend. "You're still the coolest." His eyes widened after he spoke, his blush blooming across his cheeks, down his neck and partially over his exposed chest. How obvious did he want to be, honestly? "Uh, I mean, y'know..." There was no way to recover here. He closed his eyes and waited for the fallout.

Puck just laughed, reaching out and ruffling Blaine's hair. "You can stop thanking me, you know," he said, obviously mistaking the comment and the blush as Blaine's continued awkwardness about accepting his help. "I won't kick you out if you start acting like this is just as much your home as mine, 'cos it is now."

"Oh!" Blaine couldn't disguise his relief.

Thankfully, Puck misinterpreted that, too. "What? You think it's not?"

Back into comfortable territory, Blaine shook his head and offered his friend a grateful smile. "No. I'm definitely at home here, Puck. Your family is ten times what mine was. It's just a big adjustment for so little time, you know? I keep expecting things to fall apart some more."

"You gotta stop that, then."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. I'll get right on that."

Puck snorted and turned back over momentarily, reaching for the light switch. It was getting late and Emily would be awake again before they knew it. "Night, dork." He said, watching Blaine take his customary position as far away as possible.

"G'night, Noah."

-?-

Puck was the first to wake up the next morning, and was surprised to find himself wrapped around Blaine. God only knew when that had happened. They'd been up and down with Emily all night as she had been particularly fussy. The last thing he remembered was putting her down in her crib after yet another diaper change (kid was a freaking poop machine), having told Blaine that he could stay in bed and sleep through it.

Realising that he must have crawled straight back in next to his friend and adopted the position he'd not had the balls to take when they were awake, he smiled softly to himself and pulled Blaine closer against him, throwing his leg over Blaine's hip so that the younger boy was well and truly pinned under him.

The sensation of Blaine's smooth, warm skin against his was comforting and arousing all at once, and he felt his already semi-hard member twitch as ideas started to filter through his brain. Without conscious decision, he found his hips rocking forward, languidly seeking friction against the solid body curled beneath him. He bit his lip to subdue a moan, feeling so wrong for taking advantage of his position and yet _so _right.

And then Blaine moved, murmuring something incoherent, clearly waking up.

Puck froze, his dick throbbing, his heart beating at ten times its usual rate. He slammed his eyes shut and tried to get his breathing to even out, hoping Blaine wouldn't see through the charade. Because this? _So_ not how Puck wanted his friend to find out about his feelings.

Blaine wriggled as he woke, slowly registering that the warmth and weight stretched out across his back and over his thigh belonged to his roommate and best friend. It took half a moment for him to realise that Puck's body was, in one way, even more alert than it had been on other mornings, twitching against his backside. Blaine stilled his movements as his mouth went dry, and he tried to will away the answering arousal tenting his own boxers.

They were teenagers, he reasoned. This happened. A lot. Especially when forced to share a bed with another warm body. It didn't mean anything.

But Blaine knew he was kidding himself. To Puck, who was fast asleep and thankfully unaware of their current mutual predicament, this probably was just a case of hormones and a warm body. To Blaine, though, this was being _way_ too involved with his crush. A sad, twisted part of him wanted to stay like this for as long as possible, soaking in the unintentional attention from his friend while it lasted, because, if Puck was awake, this would never, ever happen.

He blinked away tears as he reminded himself of his reality, and the emotional upheaval was enough to dampen his arousal, his erection wilting away. With a shaky exhalation, he extracted himself from Puck's embrace, gathered his clothing and headed for the bathroom.

This would quickly become his ritual.

-?-

Blaine had never been so excited for the weekend to arrive in his entire life. This would be his first official weekend with his daughter (because the one previous couldn't possibly count for obvious reasons), and he was looking forward to what he had decided would mark the beginning of their life together. He knew that at just over two weeks old she wouldn't be able to interact with him, or remember anything of it, but he had plans to start lifelong traditions nonetheless. Cooked breakfasts, walks through the park, evenings spent playing board games and watching family movies until she fell asleep and he carried her upto bed; all the things he'd wished for during his own childhood.

So, after dressing in the bathroom as per normal, he bounded down the stairs bright and early on Saturday morning and started preparing a cooked, kosher breakfast for his adoptive family, warming a bottle of formula on the side. As predicted, Puck was the first to stumble in to the kitchen, Emily held against the smooth expanse of his shoulder.

"_Dude_," Noah groaned, practically salivating as he took in the meal that Blaine had cooked. "You're, like, a God or something."

Blaine was too busy trying not to salivate at Puck's practically naked body. Why hadn't he known that on weekends the older boy would obviously feel the need to sloth around in his sleepwear? Puck's very short, practically painted on cotton trunks left nothing to Blaine's imagination, especially as he woke up pressed against his friend every morning.

_'Straight. Straight. Straight, straight, straight.' _Blaine reminded himself.

Seriously, was Puck _trying _to tempt Blaine into doing something stupid? The taller boy _knew_ he was extremely attractive; walking around in nothing but his underwear near his gay roommate was not a clever move. Not if he wanted things to stay platonic.

Frozen to the spot and lost in thoughts that were so, _so_ wrong, Blaine didn't notice Puck entering his personal space until a muscular arm reached around him, practically pinning him to the counter. Blaine startled, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, staring at the tanned collarbone directly in his line of vision. He was so close, Blaine could just lean forward and _lick_ at the tempting jugular... He swallowed roughly.

Puck moved back slowly, almost torturously; the arm that had pinned Blaine to the counter emerging to reveal the bottle of formula. "You okay?" Puck asked, concerned. "You went a little pale there. You need to sit?"

Blaine's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He felt like such an idiot. When Puck had gotten up close and personal, he'd started to hope... But Puck was just reaching for the bottle!

_'Stupid.' _He internally told himself. _'Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!'_

"Uh, yeah. Just a little exhausted, I suppose." He knew it was a lame excuse, but it was the best he had.

Puck pushed him into a seat and handed Emily to him, the bottle following soon after. "You feed the munchkin," he directed, "and I'll plate this up and put it in the oven to keep it warm. Ma and Bek won't be up for a while." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We, uh, we usually head to Synagogue for the midday service if we're all home. We don't do it every week, but we go when we can. You...you can join us if you want? I mean, you're not Jewish, so you don't have to, but-"

"I'd love to," Blaine said, cutting his friend off. He knew that Noah's religion meant a lot to him, even if he wasn't strictly practicing. "I mean, I'll sit near the doors in case Em gets fussy, but I'd really like to go with you."

"Really?" Puck's eyes were wide with surprise.

"Of course. You wanted me to feel like part of the family, right? So, even if I'm not Jewish, I want to be as much a part of what's important to you guys anyway." He shrugged, careful not to jostle Emily who was suckling greedily at her breakfast. "Besides, I think it'll be good for her. I mean, I'm not planning on choosing any religion for her, but I want her to grow up with some religious influence, you know? So she can make her own decision about it when she's old enough."

Puck felt as though all the air in the room had been sucked out, leaving him queasy and breathless. Blaine was perhaps the most perfect person he had ever met. And later, at Temple, when his mother pulled him aside and told him exactly that? ("That boy cooks for us, Noah, and comes to Temple! You do _not _let him go. I don't care that he's not Jewish. He is _perfect_!") Puck felt his stomach turn to knots. He couldn't afford to fuck this up.

-?-

Arriving home from Temple, the boys clamoured out of the car with grins on their faces. They'd spent the entire drive back teasing Bekah about her crush on one of the boys from her Hebrew classes. Blaine had never felt so lighthearted following a family outing before, and hoped that, even after Emily and he moved out into their own place, he could always find this same feeling of acceptance and family with the Puckerman brood.

He was on such a natural high that his heart immediately plummeted to his stomach when he rounded the car to see a familiar couple standing on the front porch, obviously waiting for him.

Puck's hand was on the base of Blaine's spine in an instant, Emily's carrier held tightly in his other. He gestured for his mother and sister to go on inside, meeting the gaze of the man in front of him with determination. "Mister H," he nodded, his greeting as light and jovial as he could muster, feeling the tension radiating from Blaine. "Carole."

Burt nodded at him, eyes darting to the baby and staying there. "Puckerman," he said, "Do you mind giving Blaine, Carole and I a moment?"

Blaine stiffened and almost stopped walking completely, craning his neck to give Puck a pleading look. Puck knew that this was going to suck for Blaine, but didn't want to start a scene, especially not on his frown lawn.

"Why don't we go on inside?" Puck offered, subtly pushing Blaine forward. "You guys can have coffee in the lounge room, and I'll-"

"Be right there with us." Blaine finished, giving him a look that said he wasn't accepting any other scenario. "It's your house, Noah."

Burt looked like he wanted to argue, but Ruth chose that moment to reappear at the door, all smiles, ushering the uninvited guests inside, immediately asking Carole how Finn was doing.

"You can do this," Noah whispered into Blaine's ear. "You handled being kicked out of home by your own parents. This should be easier than that, right?"

With a deep breath, Blaine nodded. Puck had a point. Sure, Burt Hummel was Kurt's dad, and his opinion had once meant the world to Blaine, but that relationship was over now, and there were more important things for Blaine to focus on. His top priority? His daughter. There was nothing Burt Hummel could do about her, so Blaine could handle this.

He entered the lounge room a few paces behind Puck, taking his seat right next to him, relying on the heat emanating from his friend to keep him centred. Their thighs pressed together as they sat on the two seater couch, and Blaine was comforted by the weight against his leg. Puck was there. He wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't let anything get out of hand.

"Kurt called me the other day with the strangest story," Burt started without preamble, his eyes boring holes into Blaine's. "And I'm bettin' you know exactly what that was."

"Yes sir." Blaine nodded, maintaining eye contact. He was not ashamed of his daughter. The actions that had led to her conception and existence, on the other hand? Certainly. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Sorry." Burt echoed, in the same deceptively calm tone as his son.

Blaine's heart sank. He knew this was going to get messy. Feelings would be hurt. Nasty things would be said. God, he _hated_ confrontation. So much for a perfect official first weekend!

"You cheated on my kid, Blaine. You think 'sorry' is gonna cut it?"

It was Puck's turn to tense, not impressed with his Blaine being spoken to like that. And, _hey_, _no_, what was with the 'his' in that sentence? Wishful thinking, perhaps.

Blaine, though, just sighed. "I can't exactly go back in time and change it." He waited a beat. "But, to be honest, I don't think I would."

Puck swivelled his head, staring at Blaine in awe while Burt bristled, his desire to defend Kurt outweighing his initial decision to try his best to support Blaine. "Excuse me? You're telling me you're happy you cheated on Kurt? That you'd do it again?"

"I'm not proud of the fact that I cheated, Mister Hummel," it was safest to presume that he'd lost the right to call the man by his given name, "but I wouldn't change it, no. Because if I changed it my daughter wouldn't exist. And if she didn't exist, I'd be sitting at home, miserable and on my own, because the boy I loved dumped me, and my parents are cold and disinterested. Those two things still stand true now, but I have found a family without them."

Burt rolled his eyes. "You're Seventeen, Blaine. A kid. You think life's gonna be all sunshine and lollipops because you've got a kid of your own? News flash: you should have got a puppy. Kids are _hard_. And the Puckerman family, nice as they are for taking you in, are _not _your family, kid. Your family, from what I hear, is you, an absentee big brother, and a small mouth to feed."

"_Burt,_" Carole reprimanded, while Blaine put his hand on Puck's knee, trying to keep the now angry boy from lunging across the coffee table at the congressman.

"No, Mrs Hummel, he's right." Blaine blinked back a few rogue tears. "I didn't mean to sound _proud_ of the fact that I'm a teen Dad relying on other people's charity, because I'm not. I just love her so much..." He took a deep breath. "I _am_ sorry that I cheated on Kurt. You have to believe me; I didn't even remember that I had until Emily turned up on my doorstep. Not that it excuses my behaviour in any way, but...had I realised earlier, I would have told Kurt. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, and you have every right to be mad at me for doing it." He looked back across at the man he's once considered his future father-in-law, his tone hardening. "But you're wrong about my family. The Puckermans _are _my family. Noah spent _weeks _trying to bring me out of my shell after Kurt broke up with me, and his mother and sister have welcomed me into their home with more love and joy in seven days than my own mother has over the last decade. So, with all due respect, don't tell me who is and isn't family to me."

Burt sized him up, the tension in the room thick enough to be carved by a knife, before he sighed and shook his head, gesturing towards the baby carrier at Puck's feet. "Given the chat you and I had before you and Kurt started dating, I'm surprised you were so careless. Didn't you lecture me to teach Kurt about safe sex?" Blaine blushed, avoiding Puck's incredulous stare, keeping his eyes locked on Burt's who continued, though he'd softened his tone considerably. "Are you even sure she's yours? Have you had a paternity test done?"

"Are you _serious_? Look at her!" Blaine was close to losing his calm. He could understand Burt coming in and chewing him out for what he'd done to Kurt, but who the hell did he think he was asking a question like that?

Burt pinned his son's ex with a serious stare. He admired the boy for dealing with the consequences of his actions, for choosing to be practically homeless with his kid rather than the seemingly easier option of putting her up for adoption to appease his parents and maintain the lifestyle he'd grown accustomed to. However, the boy had still done something careless, and the ramifications of his initial drunken tryst could have been so much worse. Burt needed to say his piece with the kid, if only to hammer home the point.

"Do you even remember what her mother looked like?" Burt found himself asking. "Kurt said you were drunk." This was said with disdain. "Time you got drunk before that, you made out with Rachel, I hear. Rachel has all the same features as you _and_ that kid. Is _she_ related to you, too?"

Blaine gaped for a moment, before puffing his chest up, ready to blast the older man with a serve of indignation. Puck cut him off, his voice quiet and soft, his hand over the top of Blaine's where it was still resting on his knee from earlier. "Wait, Blaine, stop. He's got a point."

Blaine jerked back, stunned. "What?" He felt somewhat betrayed.

Noah squeezed his hand, preventing him from pulling back further. "C'mon, hear me out. You don't remember her mom, do you? What if Mister H _is_ right? What if she does look like her mom? What if you and Em's mom look similar, like you and Rachel did, and we're all just _assuming_ Em takes after you?"

Blaine couldn't believe he was hearing this. "You're saying I _should_ get a DNA test done?"

"It'd remove all doubt," Puck nodded. "Look, I'm sure she's yours. She looks just like you. But don't you want absolute proof? Just in case one day mom comes strolling back into her life with some other guy saying that he's actually the baby-daddy, thanks for all your help, won't be needing you anymore. If I thought she were my kid? I'd do _anything_ to make sure it stayed that way."

"I..." Blaine swallowed. Noah was right, naturally. But there was a part of him that was terrified that Emily wasn't his. That he'd gone through hell for nothing. That he'd gotten attached to a daughter that belonged to someone else. He didn't think that was likely, but the possibility scared him more than he could cope with. Shoulders slumped, he nodded. "Aren't they expensive?"

"I work at a hospital, Blaine," Carole reminded him, her tone gentle. "I'll ask around, see what I can do for you."

Blaine thanked her and then took Emily's waking up mewling as his cue to ask the couple to leave. On his way out the door, Burt turned and put his hand on Blaine's shoulder, squeezing slightly.

"I'm probably never gonna be okay with what you did," he said, "but I respect the way you've stepped up and dealt with it. You've got balls, kid. And Carole and I will always be here for you if you need us, okay?" He glanced over Blaine's shoulder, to where Puck stood with Emily held up against his shoulder, then smiled gently. "But I think you're right. You've got all the support you need right here, don't you?"

Blaine smiled genuinely and thanked him, promising that he'd be in to the hospital for the paternity tests once Carole had organised everything.

He was relieved, two weeks later, when the blood tests she'd arranged came back in his favour. Puck suggested that he have the paperwork that proved his paternity framed.

He actually considered it.

-?-

Eventually, the weeks passed, and before Blaine knew it, his little girl had seemingly doubled in size and weight, losing much of her curled up, newborn appearance. Ruth had encouraged Blaine to take her for checkups at the hospital, and he and Puck had both been ecstatic to hear that Emily was in perfect health and developing on schedule for her age.

Though the teens were almost constantly tired, neither could contain their joy whenever Emily focused on one of them and grinned happily, gurgling and kicking her chubby little legs at the sheer pleasure of recognising them.

In general, she had become more sensitive to her surroundings, responding to changes in sound and action around her. To Blaine's utter delight, Emily appeared to be beginning to take a real interest in music of any kind, though Puck maintained that it was _obvious _that she preferred their singing and guitar playing to the crappy CDs Blaine had bought her. She was now able to lay on her rounded little belly, lifting her head in short spurts, experimentally shifting her weight from side to side. Google said it wouldn't be long before she could roll herself over.

For Blaine and Puck, these noticeable changes in her abilities were incredibly gratifying, especially after weeks of diaper changing, feeding, bathing, kissing and cuddling her with little response.

So now her month with Leroy was up -and, boy howdy, that time _flew_!- and Blaine could take her to her official daycare. This also meant that he was in a position to apply for a part time job, something he hadn't felt comfortable doing when Leroy had been looking after her all day.

Dropping her off at the daycare centre at Hiram's firm proved just as difficult as leaving her with Leroy had a month earlier. Puck rubbed soothing circles on Blaine's back and answered all the questions the staff had about Emily's health and routines when it appeared that the baby's father had turned catatonic.

"You've got both our cell numbers and Hiram Berry's as well, the number for her doctor, my mom's cell number, the school number..." Puck double checked, telling himself that he was not feeling the way Blaine looked. "And we'll be around to pick her up after Four, assuming Glee doesn't run late."

The pretty blonde girl currently holding Emily smiled in reassurance and started ushering the boys out the door. As they left, Puck heard her mutter, "Hot and gay. So unfair."

He sighed and guided Blaine out to the car, pondering her words. He hadn't been laid in _months _and she was very attractive; just the sort of girl Puckzilla would have been all over even without the case of blue balls. But he wasn't even slightly interested. Nope, it seemed that nowadays he would prefer jacking off in the shower to thoughts of Blaine Anderson to actually having a set of glossy, feminine lips wrapped around his dick. On some level, he knew that his original attraction to Blaine had morphed into something deeper, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to think the word. And if he didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't real.

There seemed to be something wrong with the wiring in his head, because he was still waiting for a good time to sit down and confess his attraction to his friend, and he had no idea if it would even be reciprocated (because, as far as he knew, Blaine liked his boys lean and effeminate, and he was neither of those things). Then there was also the possibility that Blaine would freak out, take Emily and move in with the Berrys, and Puck could _not_ let that happen.

He was too attached to both of his roommates to lose them now. And if that meant keeping his feelings hidden and continuing a relationship with his right hand, then so be it.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- What's this? Another chapter in 24 hours? Has the world gone mad? No. Nothing that drastic. Loki Firefox begged for it and, because I love him, he's getting it as a thank you for all his amazing help so far. Loki, if this editing is subpar, it's because I rushed it for you. :P**

**For those of you who were excited to see the boys happy...remember that feeling, okay? I DO believe in happy endings. I do. But I love melodrama. I love tension. **

**Buckle up, kiddies, it's going to get a little rough before it gets better.**

* * *

Getting a job turned out to be ridiculously easier than Blaine had anticipated. He'd left his résumé with a few businesses at the mall and some closer to home, and was surprised when the Lima Bean called him back less than an hour later. The interview had been a joke, the store manager recognising him as one of her best customers immediately, and he'd been handed an apron and asked to start then and there.

That had been over a month ago, and he found that, though he missed the extra time with Emily during the week, he enjoyed the work. He was great with the customers, found he knew a lot about coffee in all its forms, and didn't mind doing the odd jobs when the cafe was quiet. He'd even spoken to Julie -his manager- about setting up open mic nights to get more traffic through the door on their quiet days.

The one thing he truly disliked, though, was working the weekends. He desperately wanted to be bonding with Emily during the day, but he hadn't exactly told Julie that he was a dad (and it hadn't been for lack of trying, she just managed to shift the conversation every time he attempted it) and he _did_ need the money.

He felt awful that Puck had become his designated babysitter, too.

Noah tried to assure him that he was fine with it, that he loved spending time one on one with his little Princess, but Blaine felt guilt settling into his gut every time he walked out the door, apron in hand. Emily was _his _daughter, not Puck's, and yet Noah was the one giving up his social life to look after her. Hell, Blaine couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his best friend go on a date, let alone hang out with the guys without Blaine and the baby tagging along.

Noah had been a womaniser until that past summer, when he'd abruptly decided to 'give the ladies a break' and start hanging out with Blaine. At the time, Blaine had seen it as his friend's attempt to bring him out of his post-breakup funk, but Puck had stayed true to his decision, even after it became apparent that Blaine had recovered from Kurt's departure. That had been almost five months ago, and he still hadn't seen Puck even bat an eyelid in an attractive girl's direction. In fact, ever since Emily, Puck had spent every night with Blaine and the baby.

Was it any wonder, then, that Blaine continued to wake up cocooned in Puck's arms, proof of the older boy's sexual frustration consistently poking into his hip or backside? Poor guy was probably desperate to get off with _anyone _by this stage. Even Blaine was beginning to get bored of just his hand, though his crush on Puck hadn't waned in the least. In fact, over the two months he'd been living with Noah, he'd found it becoming increasingly more difficult to deny that his feelings were more serious than a simple crush.

Noah was there for Blaine whenever he was upset or stressed out. He shared every little moment of parental wonder when it came to Emily, never once calling Blaine's joy at some tiny achievement stupid or exaggerated. He got up to help with the night time feeds, diaper changes and occasional poop explosions which required bathing Emily and changing all of her bedding (this had only happened three times to date, thankfully). He collected Emily from daycare if Blaine had to work late, and never once complained that he hadn't signed up to be a teen dad a second time to a kid that wasn't even his.

If it weren't for Noah Puckerman, Blaine didn't think that he would have been able to get as far as he had with his daughter. And there was no denying it anymore; Puck was in a league of his own when it came to any of Blaine's relationships, platonic or otherwise.

Pain blossomed in his chest as he finally acknowledged what he'd been avoiding: he had fallen in love with his best friend. His straight best friend.

-?-

"Hey! Anderson!" Blaine heard as he walked down the hall towards his math class, and he turned to see a wall of red and white jackets heading his way.

Blaine bit his lip, knowing that this situation was probably going to end badly. With a sigh, he dropped his messenger bag against the wall beside him and unbuttoned his cardigan, revealing the tight black polo beneath. He shrugged the top layer off, folded it, and placed it neatly on his bag. Then he calmly turned to face the boys and asked, "Is there a problem, guys?"

The guy to his right - Lipoff, Blaine thought- smirked and leaned against a locker beside him in an almost intimidating way. "We hear congratulations are in order."

Next to him, his friend nodded. "Word on the grapevine is that you've got yourself a kid."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "That's old news, boys, but thanks for the, uh, _kind_ words." He moved to leave, but found himself pushed back against the metal wall behind him, landing with a clang.

"We're not done here." This came from Coleman, and Blaine wanted to sneer at him. He was not in the mood to play the non-confrontational geek role today. If these thugs didn't get out of his face and leave him the hell alone, he was going to lose it.

"I think we are." Blaine said, trying once more to just walk away.

"Listen up, Queer Eye," Lipoff again, and Blaine ignored the slur, "you walk around here as if you're better than everyone, but that's gonna change. You're a Grade A Loser. You're in high school and you have a kid? Even Coleman's not stupid enough to knock anyone up."

Blaine bit his tongue, preventing himself from making a comment about how Coleman would be lucky if he could get close enough to a woman to even try, and this coming from the gay kid.

"How'd that happen, anyway?" Surette finally spoke, sounding snide as ever. "Lady Hummel more woman than we all thought?" The other jocks sniggered. Bolstered by his audience, Surette continued. "No, _he_ dumped _your_ ass didn't he? Huh, maybe we were all wrong about who wore the pants in that relationship. Were you the one on the receiving end, Anderson? Maybe Hummel knocked _you _up and wanted nothing to do with your freak kid."

Blaine saw red. Homophobic slurs he could handle, jokes about his preferences in bed weren't exactly new either, but calling Emily a freak? Not gonna happen. "Shut up and walk away," he growled, giving the jocks one last chance to back off.

"Ooh, hit a nerve there, did we?" Lipoff looked pleased with himself. "You finally realise that it's wrong for a fag like you to be raising a baby? How fucked up is that kid gonna be?"

"Fuck you!" Blaine lunged forward at the same time as a beefy arm reached out to shove him backwards. He reacted on instinct, years of boxing training and fight club kicking in, and he ducked the arm skillfully. This had the unintentional side effect of enraging the letterman clad senior further.

With a frustrated growl, the jock surged towards Blaine, landing a blow on the shorter boy's shoulder. Blaine grunted but remained unmoved, his left arm delivering a swift uppercut to his assailant's midsection, the right following quickly with a secondary jab, knocking the wind out of the boy enough to drop him to his knees. Blaine turned to the next jock in line, arms still up in defence. "Next?" He asked, eyebrow arched, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"_What _is going on here?!" Mr Schuester's voice prevented the next boy from rounding on Blaine, but the former warbler's relief was short lived. Will grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and he struggled against the hold, grumbling as the jocks scarpered away. _Typical_. Blaine's frustration turned on his teacher.

"March!" Will demanded, giving Blaine a firm push forward towards the choir room. Blaine managed to convince him to let go long enough for him to collect his discarded belongings.

"Blaine," Mr Schue started once he pushed the teenager into the choir room, his tone laced liberally with disappointment and anger, "You want to tell me what just happened back there?"

Blaine straightened out his shirt and bow-tie, slipping his cardigan back on. "I didn't mean to hit the guy," he said, making a show of doing up his buttons, trying to reign in his temper. "I was just going to side-step him, but then he landed a punch and..." he shrugged. "Instinct kicked in."

"That's not what I was asking." Will sighed. "It's not like you to fight at all. How did you end up in that situation?"

Wanting to correct his teacher, but not wanting to break the number one rule of Fight Club (not that he'd been to a session in months!), Blaine shrugged, wilfully ignorant. "I don't know."

"I'm going to need more than that."

Blaine scoffed, "_Please_. The rampant bullying and slushying that goes on in this school, and you're going to act concerned _now_?"

Will gaped. "I am concerned! I care about you kids! I-"

"Oh, _save_ it!" Blaine wasn't in the mood for one of Will Schuester's deep and meaningful conversations. On top of all the other issues Blaine was bottling up, this was the last straw. The man was all talk, and Blaine had had enough. "You are _always_ going on about how important your students are, about how you want to make a difference, but you just turn around and ignore the stuff that's too hard for you to deal with, and you meddle in the personal lives of students when you really, _really_ shouldn't. You're a teacher, Mr Schuester, not a friend or parent. Start acting the part."

"Blaine!" Will was unimpressed with his star performer's attitude, especially given how polite and kind he usually was. In fact, the outburst was much more like something Puck would have said than Blaine. Will took a deep breath and pointed at the door, refusing to say something that he'd regret later. "Take a walk."

Throwing his hands up in the air, Blaine muttered a "Whatever" and stormed out of the room, leaving Will to consider his next point of action.

-?-

"Dude, so I was listening in to some of the team during training, and they were mocking Lipoff for getting his ass handed to him by 'the gay midget in homo explosion'," Puck said later that afternoon as he and Blaine walked towards their cars, his arm slung casually across Blaine's shoulders, "and I've kinda been dying to hear that story all day."

Blaine had been dreading this part. He didn't think Puck was going to take the news of what the boys had been saying about Emily well, but he knew it was better to warn him before he overheard it and started hitting people himself. Still, Blaine wasn't telling him in the McKinley High parking lot, not when Puck could turn around and go actively searching for the jocks. He'd tell Noah later, at home, and give him time to adjust and calm down before work the next day. With that in mind, he shrugged. "Not much to tell. He swung at me, I swung back and got him in the stomach."

"Totally badass," Puck grinned, giving him a proud little shake. "I can't wait to tell Em."

"What? No! Puck, she's, like, ten weeks old. You're _not_ encouraging fighting around my ten week old daughter. It was reckless of me; what if I'd gotten suspended or something?" That thought terrified him; if something bad ended up on his permanent record, his college options (and therefore entire future) would be shot to hell.

"Okay, okay, chill." Noah gave him a squeeze. "You didn't get in trouble, so it's all good." He stopped at Blaine's car (they'd swapped for ease of transporting Emily; Puck's truck was not an adequate option), watching the set of Blaine's shoulders as he walked on. "But you're obviously not getting enough of a release these days. We totally need to ditch Em with Ma for a couple of hours and work it off together." They both stopped and blushed, hearing the accidental innuendo and proposition in Puck's words. "I...I mean in the gym. Boxing. _Fuck._"

Avoiding Puck's gaze, Blaine forced a laugh, but it fell kind of flat. "Yeah, I kind of figured." To his horror, his voice gave away his disappointment. "Look, I'm late for work. I gotta go." He clamoured in to the truck and peeled out of the parking lot, refusing to look back, blinking back tears. "Stupid. So stupid."

-?-

Blaine was distracted all evening, getting coffee orders wrong, knocking cups over, spilling things everywhere. His boss had pulled him aside to ask what was wrong, but he brushed her concern off, laughing that he was just having a bad day. And, because he hadn't learned any better by that stage, Murphy's Law came into effect, Sebastian Smythe striding through the door.

"Blaine?" The lead Warbler asked, approaching the counter. "You work here now?"

With a sigh, Blaine nodded. "I have for a few weeks."

Green eyes lit up with delight, and Blaine smothered a groan. He'd had a blissful number of months without Sebastian interfering in his life, what the hell was the guy doing back now? He'd backed off after the drama of the previous year, then disappeared completely, and Blaine had assumed that he'd found a new boy to sexually harass. But now here he stood, all smirking and cocky, and Blaine needed to find a way to end it before it all began again.

"Where's your pretty little boyfriend?" Sebastian was leaning across the counter now, fiddling with the cylindrical straw dispenser in a way that Blaine could only describe as obscene. "I heard through the grapevine that New York didn't want his effeminate ass."

Taking a deep, calming breath, Blaine reminded himself that dumping scalding coffee over Sebastian would get him fired. "Don't talk about Kurt like that," he demanded.

Sebastian was unaffected by the fire in Blaine's tone. He shrugged. "Fine. But you still haven't answered the question."

"I don't have to," Blaine seethed, temper still frayed from earlier in the day, additional frustrations of having a bad workday only fuelling his ire. "Now, are you going to order a coffee or not? Because I have better things to do than stand here and be interrogated about my ex." And _shit_. Shit, damn, fuck, head and hell. _That _had not been part of the plan. He put it down to just how badly his day was going.

As expected, the taller boy's eyes widened and then gleamed. "_Ex_?"

"God! Sebastian, I'm trying to work. Order a drink or leave me alone."

"Fine. Double espresso with a shot of-"

"I'm not getting fired for serving alcohol to a minor."

Sensing that Blaine was close to snapping point, Sebastian toned his personality down a notch, "Okay. I'm sorry. Just the espresso, please."

Blaine typed the drink into the register and took Sebastian's cash with a little more force than strictly necessary. But Sebastian wasn't letting go that easily.

"So you're single now?"

"And probably for eternity," Blaine muttered, thoughts drifting back towards Emily, and then dangerously towards Noah.

"What?"

"Nothing." Blaine set about making the drink, glad for the distraction. He handed it over a few tense minutes later.

"I'm sorry, Blaine, I am." Sebastian sounded genuine, but Blaine just wasn't in the mood.

"Have a nice day, Sebastian."

"Blaine, please-" he placed his hand over Blaine's resting on the counter at the precise moment the bell over the door jangled.

When Blaine looked up, it was into the hardened eyes of one Noah Puckerman, Emily snug against his chest.

Puck took one look at the scene in front of him and felt his heart squeeze painfully. He was too late. He was too _fucking_ late. He'd raced over to collect Emily, a plan forming in his head. He'd been certain that he hadn't imagined the moment in the parking lot; Blaine _had _sounded as though he'd wanted a different sort of proposition from him, too.

So he'd decided that today was it. It had been nearly five months since he started falling for his best friend, and it was time he manned up and confessed. It was getting too difficult to live in such close proximity, to go to bed and wake up next to Blaine (or, worse, wrapped around him) and not give in to his urges and reach out and _touch. _

But he was too late. Sebastian Smythe, the douche that had blinded Blaine last year with a freaking slushy, was holding his hand, making doe-eyes at him from across the counter. And Blaine wasn't brushing him off, wasn't spouting declarations that it wasn't what it looked like, wasn't telling the guy to get lost. So Puck stood there with Blaine's gorgeous kid curled up under his chin, feeling like an idiot.

"Noah," Blaine finally managed, pulling his hand out from under Sebastian's. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, I know you usually get a break around now, and I though I'd surprise you," Puck replied, feeling more and more foolish with each word he spoke. "I mean, 'cos you don't get to see her before she goes to bed these days, and I thought it'd be good for both of you, y'know?" And he was babbling. Noah Puckerman never freaking babbled. "She's a bit grizzly today. Ma says she might be getting a cold or something. She feels a bit warm."

At that, Blaine's expression went from one of adoration to one of deep concern. It looked, to Sebastian, as though Blaine was going to vault directly over the counter to get to the older teen and the baby. Blaine's manager must have sensed it, too, because she came out of nowhere, giving Blaine a searching look, telling him to go ahead and take the afternoon off as it was pretty light on business anyway. Blaine couldn't shuck the apron fast enough, spewing gratitude and promises of explanation at his manager before racing around the counter, bypassing Sebastian entirely. In fact, it felt to the Warbler that the other two boys had forgotten that he was even there.

"Hey, Em, look who's here sweetheart," Puck said, shifting so that the little girl could see her father.

Her eyes lit up in recognition immediately, the pout on her face becoming a bright smile, her chubby hand -covered in her own drool- reaching for Blaine.

Sebastian gasped when she turned, seeing the resemblance, wondering if he was misinterpreting. Because Blaine was gay. Sex on a stick and completely irresistible, yes, but gay. Besides, he wouldn't have cheated on Hummel; that concept was absurd. "Cute kid," he said, regaining his equilibrium, sidling back up alongside Blaine, coffee forgotten. "Your sister? Niece? Cousin?"

Blaine rolled his eyes and shook his head, reaching for the baby. "Hey Emmy. Want to cuddle with Daddy?" he cooed, taking her from Puck's arms. She beamed at him and made some garbled sounds, and he pressed a sloppy kiss to her forehead, frowning because, yeah, it was warmer than usual. He looked up at Puck. "You think I should take her to the clinic?"

Puck shook his head, distracted by the horrified look on Sebastian's face. "_Daddy_?" The Warbler echoed. "You're not serious, Blaine."

Blaine's expression hardened, becoming almost unreadable. "As a heart attack, Sebastian. Emily is my daughter. Is there a problem with that?" He smoothed a hand over her hair to calm himself.

"Is there...? _Blaine. _You're gay." Sebastian spoke slowly, as if he were trying to explain a very complicated problem to a five year old. "Gay, Blaine. Gay men don't normally spontaneously wind up with kids." He eyed the drooling infant with distaste. "So, how did _that _happen? It this why you and Princess Peach broke up?" Because he couldn't see Hummel sticking around for diapers and feedings and all the other gross stickiness involved in child rearing.

"Not that it's any of your business," Blaine told him, "But no. Kurt and I broke up way before I knew Emily existed. As for how she happened? I'm sure you can work that out. I didn't think I'd have to draw Sebastian Smythe a picture when it came to sex."

"But-"

"If you say 'but you're gay' one more time, Smythe, so help me God..."

"Okay. I'm sorry." Sebastian snapped his jaw shut, looking between Blaine and Puck -both of them tense and awkward- and tried to work out where the other boy came into the picture. From memory, he was a straight McKinley jock, but the way he was eyeing Blaine and the baby said otherwise. And Sebastian's gaydar was never, ever wrong. Besides, Blaine seemed to only have eyes for Mr Tall-Dark-And-Muscular, shooting him shy glances when the taller guy looked away.

It seemed to Sebastian that these boys could use a push together, especially now that he was no longer interested in Blaine. It wasn't that the shorter boy was any less appealing than he had been five minutes earlier, but he had a baby, and Sebastian was not in any way interested in getting involved with that mess.

Feeling magnanimous, he curled his lips into a smile, staring at Blaine in the same flirtatious way he always had. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the bigger boy tense up. '_Good.' _He thought. Muscles was playing right into his hand. "This," Sebastian gestured at the infant tugging at Blaine's hair, "must be rough. If you need to talk, I'm here, okay? Not a single sexual advance in sight, I promise." He winked. "Unless, of course, you decide you want that sort of thing."

"Oh. Oh, I, uh, I appreciate the offer, Sebastian, but-"

"Okay, I get it. Look, here's my number again," he produced a pen and scribbled on the back of a napkin, tucking it into Blaine's hip pocket, resisting the urge to squeeze the boy's cute backside as he did. He was practically a saint. "So, if you change your mind, I'm here." He reached out and ruffled the soft hair on the baby's head, adopting what he hoped was a fond sort of expression. "Later, Killer."

-?-

Puck had been tense and silent ever since they'd left The Lima Bean in separate cars, and Blaine could only assume the worst; Puck had finally realised that his best friend -the boy he was sharing a bed with- had fallen for him, and was freaking out. Blaine felt awful; the last thing he'd wanted to do was make his best friend uncomfortable.

Over the course of the afternoon, Blaine tried to make conversation, but most of his attempts had been ignored or only garnered only monosyllabic replies. Even his questions about Emily, which usually never failed to brighten Puck up, were given little attention.

When they were putting her to bed (their third attempt for the night, as she was getting increasingly grizzly), Blaine snapped.

"Okay," he started, rounding on Puck with his hands on his hips. "What's your problem?"

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me. You've been weird ever since you brought Emily to me at work." He softened, still blown away by how thoughtful the act had been. "Which I really did appreciate, by the way."

"Coulda' fooled me."

"What?"

Puck swallowed and looked away. "You just seemed to be having a good time with Sebastian before we showed up. And it got me thinking." His heart rate increased, knowing that this was his chance. This was his time to do what he'd planned to that afternoon.

"Thinking?" Blaine asked, forgetting to correct Puck on his assumption, too curious as to what was bothering his friend.

"Yeah. I...I've been...You..." Puck took a deep breath. "I've been thinking of moving out." His eyes widened as the words left his lips. That _wasn't_ what he'd wanted to say!

Blaine reeled back, stunned and hurt. "Oh." He felt his throat tightening, the sting of impending tears in his sinus and eyes. "Oh. Okay."

Puck, meanwhile, was trying to work out where his plan had gone wrong. He hadn't meant to say those words; he'd wanted to confess his feelings and then pin his best friend to the bed for an epic make out session. So why had he faltered? Why had he, instead, just told Blaine that he was leaving? And that meant leaving Emily as well. Shit. Fuck. What had he just done?

"Blaine..." He looked up, wanting to take it back, wanting to apologise and make everything better, but the words weren't coming. "I...It was kind of obvious that you and Sebastian..." he trailed off. "Look, I just think you need space. And privacy. And, dude, I haven't been laid in months _either_, so..." _Oh my God, _it was word vomit, and it wasn't stopping, and he didn't mean _any _of this shit! "Besides, I'm earning real money now, it's about time I manned up and made it on my own, right?"

Blaine had gone from hurt to completely heartbroken. He couldn't believe this was happening. Puck was leaving him. Leaving _Emily_. Because he missed his sex life. Blaine wanted to scream; he'd known this would happen! Fighting back his tears (because this was all his own fault, really), he silently moved around the room, readying himself for bed.

Noah was watching him, paralysed by self-loathing, unable to believe that he'd caused this. He wanted to stand up, put his arms around his friend and stop this nonsense, but his body wouldn't cooperate.

Blaine lay down on his side of the bed and curled up in a ball, willing himself not to cry, not even sparing Puck a second glance.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - So, this is my favourite chapter to date. I had a blast writing this one, especially because Loki Firefox helped a whole heap. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I look forward to your reviews!**

* * *

"He _what_?!" Cooper cried into his phone, garnering himself more than a few stares from the agitated cast and crew of his latest small acting gig. Shooting them an apologetic glance, he ducked out of the room and into a narrow hallway. "Bee, are you okay? How's Em? Look, I'll wrap up here, catch the first flight I can and be in Lima-"

"_No, Coop, it's okay. We're fine." _Blaine's voice crackled down the line. He sounded heartbroken and exhausted, and Cooper scowled at the empty space in front of him. He'd predicted that this might happen. He'd urged Blaine to reconsider living with Noah Puckerman a number of times, but to no avail.

They had a regular Skype date every week, and with each passing call, Cooper had noticed his brother becoming more and more attached to the juvenile delinquent that he was rooming with. Blaine had continued to brush off his concerns, reassuring him that _'Noah'_ was his best friend and that neither boy would do anything to ruin that.

But Puckerman _had_. For reasons unbeknown to Cooper, the older boy had broken his promise and broken Blaine's heart, abandoning his friend and the baby that he'd sworn to always be there for. Honestly, Cooper had just assumed that Puck would make a move on Blaine; fucking him and telling him that it was over once he had scratched his itch. But, no, that hadn't happened (and Cooper thanked God for small mercies). Puck had instead told Blaine that he wanted out because he missed getting laid. Surely the jock had to have known that that would break Blaine's heart. Unless, of course, he had no clue that his attraction to Blaine was reciprocated...

But _that _was rediculous! Blaine was obviously head over heels for Puck; anyone could see it.

So then why hadn't Puck acted on it? Unless he had already realised that his obsession with Blaine had been fleeting, that he really was straight after all...

Cooper shook his head. He was getting distracted. It didn't matter _why _Noah Puckerman had lashed out at Blaine, only that he had. "I'm going to kill him," he told his brother, his voice taking on a steely edge. "The next time I'm in Lima, he's going to wish he'd-"

"_Cooper! No. Just...drop it, okay? It's his house. If he wants to move out, I can't stop him. I don't know what's going on with him, but violence is not the example we should be setting for Emily." _There was a sigh. "_You were right, though. About my feelings. I should have listened to you. I was stupid to fall for him. I mean, it wasn't as though I didn't know what he's like."_

And Cooper felt guilty all over again, wondering if he should have outed Puck months ago when he'd had the chance. To do so now would be wrong; Puck had obviously changed his mind. But would things have been different if both boys had been on the same page? If he hadn't urged Blaine to remember that Puck was 'straight'?

But, even as he promised his brother that he wouldn't meddle, he wondered why he couldn't fully believe his own justification. Really, he just wanted to see Blaine happy. Was it possible that Noah Puckerman _was _the person who could achieve that?

No, this was not the issue. Puck was no good for Blaine. It was better that Blaine find it out this way than him having actually taken things further and regretted them. It might take a while, but he was certain Blaine would eventually move on and find someone much better suited for him and Emily.

-?-

True to his word, Puck had a number of his belongings packed and moved into Lima's cheapest motel the next day with the intention to find better accommodation as soon as possible. His mother had been disappointed but hadn't tried to sway him, knowing that he had to make his own mistakes and work through his issues on his own. She was awesome like that, which made him feel even more guilty.

-?-

To say that Blaine's week was rough was an understatement. After Puck walked out the door, he'd had to face Ruth and explain that he thought he'd driven her son away. She'd comforted him, and looked as though she had something to say, but had remained tight lipped, simply telling him that she was sure Noah would work through his issues soon enough. Blaine wasn't certain that he liked the sound of that.

On top of that, Emily had developed a cold -as Ruth had predicted- and wasn't sleeping, which meant Blaine wasn't sleeping, kept awake each night by both his daughter's wailing and his ever-present thoughts of Puck.

At school things weren't any better. The jocks were all about exacting revenge for his takedown of Lipoff, and Blaine swore he'd never had so many locker checks in one month as he'd gotten that first day. In addition to that, Mr Schue was outright ignoring him (which Blaine thought was immature and only proved his point, but he held his tongue), and had transferred Blaine's solos to Artie, Joe and Sam.

Then there was Sam. He'd been like a dog with a bone, following Blaine around the school, sensing that his friend needed support. It had been difficult doing so, but Blaine had managed to avoid Sam's concerned questioning about his increasingly ragged appearance for the most part, waving him off and insisting that everything was okay. And because Sam knew what it felt like to be pressured into confessing his secrets, he'd backed off somewhat, remaining a silent, shadowing companion. Blaine appreciated the gesture, but he wasn't coping with it. He just wanted to be left alone.

And last, but most certainly not least, there was the matter of his job. The moment Blaine had crossed the threshold for his next shift, Julie had summoned him into the back office and interrogated him about the scene with Sebastian and Puck. He'd confessed that he was a parent and she'd been both shocked and -irritatingly- disappointed (who the hell was she to judge him, anyway?), but had told him that she commended him for working so hard to provide for his daughter. When he'd asked about the possibility of only working one day of the weekend rather than both, though, she'd laughed him out of the office. He'd quit on the spot in frustration, regretting the decision almost instantly. So the rest of his week was spent filling in job applications all over Lima, counting down the days to his birthday when his inheritance would pass down to him.

Come Friday, Blaine was exhausted and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. After another slushy to the face, he snapped and decided to skip classes for the rest of the day, heading to the gym to work out his frustrations with his favourite leather-clad friend, the punching bag. Of course, when he got there he heard the voice that had plagued his thoughts all week talking to Sam.

His chest immediately ached, and he hid behind the row of lockers, peering through the gaps, knowing that it was wrong to eavesdrop, but desperate for some sort of closure.

"What's going on with you and Blaine, man?" Sam asked as he lifted a particularly heavy looking dumbbell. "He's been walking around like a zombie all week, and you haven't been much better. I heard a freshman complaining that you're scarier to deal with on the field than a Coach Beiste/Sue Sylvester hybrid." He grunted as he lifted the weight again. "Is the baby keeping you guys up again?"

Puck sat down on the closest weight bench heavily, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of Emily. He missed the little girl like crazy, and wondered how she was doing. With his job being at the school, he was able to catch glimpses of Blaine (like some psycho stalker) around the place, but it had been days since he'd laid eyes on his little Princess and it was killing him. "I, uh, I moved out." He told Sam, swallowing over the lump in his throat. There was a thump and a clatter as weights hit the ground.

Sam looked horrified. "What?! When? _Why_?"

"Because I'm an idiot, that's why." Puck spat, clearly angry at himself. "I saw him with Sebastian and I..."

"_You_...?" Sam waited impatiently. "What, dude? You get phobic all of a sudden?"

Puck laughed abruptly, confusing the hell out of Sam. "Ah, no. Dude, not even close."

"Then what?" Sam huffed, hating that he had clearly missed something.

"I got jealous."

Blaine sucked in a breath of sharp disbelief while Sam goggled at his friend. "Jealous?" He echoed. "Of Sebastian?" He paused, trying to grasp the concept. "You're gay now?"

"Yes of Sebastian, and no. Not gay. Bi, I guess, if you really wanna label me." And it felt so good to get it off his chest. Why the hell couldn't he have done this with Blaine when he had the chance? "You cool there?"

Sam was staring at his friend like he'd grown a second head. This was Noah Puckerman, womaniser extraordinaire, who had knocked up chastity queen Quinn Fabray when he was a sophomore. And he was openly confessing that he was into guys now.

Puck was starting to get concerned. "Sam?" He asked, feeling a tad vulnerable. He had kind of just expected Sam to be okay with his semi-coming-out, but it looked as though the blond was freaking a little.

Sam shook himself. "Wow," he said, making sure to look Puck in the eye, "Didn't see that coming, to be honest."

Shrugging, Puck said, "I get it."

"Okay, don't hit me, but..." Sam inched a few steps away, to be safe. "I don't."

"What?" And if Puck sounded hurt, it was for good reason.

"No, I mean, you're my bro, dude, and I'm totally here for you, but..." Sam licked his lips, knowing that he was probably playing with fire. "Is this umm...attraction...to Blaine...is it, uh, maybe because of Emily?"

"_What_?" And now Puck sounded pissed.

"Whoa, no, hear me out." Sam scrambled for the best way to express his suspicions. "It's just...you went through a lot with the whole Beth thing, right? And, I don't know, maybe you've convinced yourself you want to be with Blaine because it gives you a chance to have the family you wish you'd had? 'Cause, Dude, we've all seen how you act around that kid. You treat her like she _is_ yours. I mean, we've even been taking bets on how long it'll take before she calls you Papa." And he was serious. Whether Blaine had realised it or not, his daughter had found herself two dads, and while Blaine was obviously teaching her that he was 'Daddy', 'Papa' wasn't really a huge leap from 'Puck' (especially as the first syllable was much easier to repeat).

There was tense silence in the gym, and Blaine held his breath, not even daring to move. The realisation was slowly sinking in that, for whatever reason, Noah had been attracted to him. Noah had _wanted_ him. And, instead of being open and honest (like he'd continually urged Blaine to be), he'd clearly panicked and told Blaine that he was moving out. Before Blaine could allow his anger and frustration with Puck to resurface, he reminded himself that he hadn't exactly been open and honest about his feelings either. Besides, it couldn't be easy for someone as -for lack of a better word- _straight_ as Puck to suddenly be interested in another guy. He had to be feeling all sorts of confused and vulnerable about it, no matter how casually he told Sam he was apparently bisexual.

_And, oh yeah, it might only be some weird Daddy issue, _Blaine thought, bringing himself back to reality, waiting with baited breath for Puck's reply.

"Dude, I love Emily," Noah said, sounding incredibly dejected. "And, yeah, I've probably gotten too attached. I've been there for every single moment Blaine has. I've done the midnight feedings and diapers. I was there when she smiled for the first time, when she giggled for the first time, when she worked out how to roll over..." _Oh God_, he was gonna cry. He cleared his throat. "So, yeah, in a way it feels like she's mine, too. But it's got _nothing_ to do with Beth. Em is not a replacement. And, not that it's any of your business, dude, but I was into Blaine _way_ before Emily turned up on his doorstep."

"Wait..._what_? But, Puck, that was, like, months ago. Why didn't you say anything?"

_**'Yeah**__, Puck, why didn't you say anything?' _Blaine's thoughts were confused, frustrated and kind of hurt all at once. Was it that he hadn't thought Blaine was worth it? Were the last three months with Emily some sort of test that he'd obviously failed?

"Because he was all cut up about Kurt," Noah sighed, leaning back, swallowing hard. "No way was I gonna jump all over him while he was vulnerable and shit. I mean, I'm not even his freaking type, far as I know. And I didn't want to be a rebound. And then Emily happened..."

"Holy...You're _actually_ serious about this." Sam started pacing. "Like, you're talking more than a fling."

The glare Puck sent across the room was scalding. "Fucking _duh_, Evans. He's my best friend. You think I'd want to bang him and leave him?" When Sam averted his gaze, finding his feet fascinating, Puck cursed again. "_Seriously_? You think that highly of me, huh? Good to know." He stood up from his seat, moving towards Beiste's office.

"No! Wait! Puck, come on! Even you have to admit that this sounds crazy." Sam chased after him, grabbing the older boy's shoulder. "You're _Noah_ _Puckerman_, dude. You don't _do _commitment."

Puck shook him off angrily. "I don't fall in love either, but that shit's happened too!"

Both boys stood back, each equally stunned at the outburst, unaware that a few feet away, Blaine was on the verge of a heart attack. Noah loved him. Noah was _in_ love with him. All of a sudden it was as if pieces of a jigsaw puzzle had clicked into place. How had he not picked up on that? Noah's increasingly tactile nature, his original insistence to have Blaine and Emily live with him, Ruth's easy acceptance (because she _had_ to have known!)...the list was endless.

God, Blaine felt like an idiot. All this time he'd pushed his feelings away, convinced that Puck was just a friend, and to what end? And, _hey_, why hadn't Ruth said anything? She'd obviously known about Puck's feelings (glass houses, she'd even said!) and still hadn't said a word to Blaine, even though he was certain she'd picked up on his obvious infatuation with her son.

Then there was the fact that he'd felt guilty about his feelings being the reason Puck had left, when it was actually the other way around. His frustration, which had ebbed away, started to resurface.

Blaine was brought back to the present at the sound of Sam's voice, still questioning his friend.

"In love? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! He's _everything _to me, Sam. And I got jealous when I saw him and Sebastian, and I fucking panicked and moved out. I told him that we needed space and privacy and that I wanted to get laid."

Sam winced. "Not your best moment, obviously." He sighed. "Well? What are you gonna do to fix it?"

"I can't fix this."

"Sure you can! You just need to tell him and -"

"And what?" Puck was pacing now, running his hands over his head. "Have him think that I'm making it up? That I actually got what I wanted -which is him and only him, just so you know- and that I'll go home and share his bed again until the next time I wanna get my rocks off? Or that it's some kind of fucked up joke? I haven't given him any indication about any of this shit. Why the hell would he even believe me? Why _should_ he?"

Blaine knew he had the option to step out from behind the lockers and tell Puck that he'd heard him and that he'd never suspect him of playing a joke like that, but he was still hurting over Puck's decision to leave. It shouldn't be up to him to fix the rift that Puck had caused. Petty as it sounded, he wanted Puck to apologise and openly tell him about his feelings. Because, really, he'd _run_ _away_ when he'd realised just how much he liked Blaine. And that hurt. Was loving him really that reviling a concept?

Sam sighed. Puck was so damn stubborn. "I just think you should try, Puck. You've already moved out. What are you going to lose?"

Shaking his head, Noah was torn by indecision. As it stood, he could still salvage his friendship with Blaine. He wasn't certain he could risk that at this point.

"Look, man, whatever you decide, I'm here for you. But Blaine's my friend, too. I just want to see you both happy, and neither of you are right now. Not like you used to be."

"Yeah," Puck agreed, tone slathered in self-deprecation. "Used to be. Before I screwed it up."

Before Sam could attempt to reason with him again, he'd stalked off into the office and shut the door behind him. "Well," the blond said into the silence, "That was...enlightening." He turned around before Blaine could completely scurry out of sight, his eyes widening in surprise. Blaine looked like a startled deer for half a second, before turning and racing out of the room.

Sam, being taller and more athletic, caught up pretty quickly, grasping his friend by the arm and dragging him into the nearest room. Or, rather, what he'd thought was a room but had turned out to be a janitor's closet. McKinley had an awful lot of them, he mused, forcing Blaine to sit down on an upturned bucket while he scrambled for a light switch. _Maybe it's because of all the slushies... _

Once light illuminated the cramped space, Sam sighed. "So...you heard how much of that?"

Blaine didn't even try to deny his eavesdropping. "All of it?"

Sam rolled his eyes, but was secretly pleased that at least one of the guys had the entire story. "I don't need to ask how you feel about him, do I?" To be perfectly honest, he'd noticed that Blaine's eyes tended to glue themselves onto Puck whenever he was around, and had watched as the curly haired Senior grew more and more attached to the recent graduate as time went on. It didn't take a genius to cotton on to the fact that Blaine was crushing on his best friend. He genuinely wondered how Puck had missed it.

Now it was Blaine's turn to sigh and he shrugged. "He took off." He replied. "He preferred the thought of being alone to actually telling me what he felt. So, you know, even though I love him, I'm not chasing after him like some lovesick puppy. I did that with Kurt. I'm not doing it again."

Sam wanted to tear his hair out. These guys were as stubborn as each other! "But you _heard _him, Blaine. He's beating himself up over this. If he could change it-"

"He just said he wasn't going to try!"

"Okay, so he needs a little push." Sam spoke without thinking, a slow grin soon stretching his lips. "And I know just what that should be!"

Given that his blond friend looked more than a little manic, Blaine arched an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. "I dislike the sound of this already."

Sam, meanwhile, was completely animated. His eyes had blown wide with excitement. "Hear me out, okay? This plan is fool proof."

"Plan? Sam, we don't need a plan. Puck-"

"-Isn't going to come chasing after you without extra incentive."

"_Extra_ incentive? What? _Love_ isn't incentive enough?" Blaine scowled, his jaw set. What was Sam implying, anyway? Was this about sex? Just because he didn't talk about it all the time didn't mean he wasn't subject to the same urges that other guys their age were.

"No," Sam answered simply, then realised what he'd said. "I mean, yeah, it is, but Puck needs a push. So we make him jealous."

Blaine stared at his friend as if he'd grown another head. "Are you out of your mind? Wasn't him being jealous of Sebastian the whole reason he moved out? How is making him more jealous going to fix things?" Then another thought occurred to him. "And _how _would I make him jealous? Because there is no way I'm getting Sebastian involved in my life, and-"

"Me."

"You? You what, Sam?"

"I'm your man. I mean, I pretend to be. That way nobody gets hurt."

"Wait...what?" Blaine shook his head, trying to clear it. "Sam, ignoring for a second how _wrong _I think this is, you're not...I mean...are you suddenly bi, too? Or bi-curious? Because otherwise I'm seeing a big flaw in this scheme of yours."

Sam laughed. "Nah, dude, totally straight. But you're forgetting that I was a stripper. You think it was only ladies who liked a bit of White Chocolate? I'm pretty secure in my sexuality. Pretending to be your boyfriend wouldn't be hard." He winced at the unintentional double entendre. "Difficult. Wouldn't be difficult."

Blaine fought against the smirk that tugged at his lips. Sam _was _really quite attractive. And his abs _were _incredible..._No_! What the hell was he thinking? He had enough dramas with one straight-ish jock. No need to start up a whole new issue. Pushing himself to his feet, he crossed the small space and reached for the door handle. "You're a great friend, Sam," he said as he stepped out into the hall, not really thinking about how it might outwardly appear to the gossip-mongers, "but I'm not really coping with the situation as it is, and, I'll be honest, it would be so easy to fall for a guy like you under much less tempting scenarios. So, I'm going to turn down your offer, okay?"

Sam gave him an easy smile as he, too, left the utility room. "Yeah, okay. But it still stands if you change your mind, alright?"

Blaine grinned and nodded. "Alright."

"I'm gonna hug you now, dude." Sam declared, pulling Blaine into his strong embrace. Blaine hugged him back, glad to still have a friend in his corner.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N - Blown away by how many people told me that they're loving this so far. I am so glad you liked the last chapter as much as I did. **

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Blaine found himself up bright and early on Saturday morning, Emily having slept through most of the night. He'd been panicked at first when she hadn't woken up screaming after an hour of fitful rest, and had sat up for a while just watching her, making sure she was okay. Once he was convinced that she was fine, he'd gone to bed, clutching pathetically at Noah's pillow. Emily had woken once for a feeding and another time for a change, but other than that it appeared that she was finally getting past her cold and the exhaustion from lack of sleep was taking its toll on her tiny body.

He pottered around the kitchen as his baby snoozed on and off in her carrier, cooking breakfast as he usually did, though the fact that Noah wasn't there next to him -making lewd comments and trying to eat the pancake batter- brought his mood down. He shook himself back to reality, recalling his promise to always give Emily the best weekends possible, and smiled softly in her direction. She chose that moment to open her eyes, grin gummily and gurgle at him, and he felt himself melt.

His iPod was playing quietly in the background and he sang along as he continued with breakfast, idly wondering whether Emily would grow up to share his love of performing. She really responded to music as it was, surely she'd share his flair for singing and dancing. He'd teach her piano and guitar, and had plans to enrol her in a ballet class once she'd mastered walking.

The song had changed and Blaine sang along, smiling with the lyrics, directing them at his little girl. If someone had told him even six months ago that he'd be a teenaged father, utterly smitten with his kid and planning for her future with a gusto, he'd have laughed and asked them what they'd been smoking. But here he was, in that exact position, and he couldn't imagine life differently.

"_Isn't it amazing a man like me can feel this way_," he crooned at her, picking up the spatula and dramatising a little. "_Tell me how much longer. It could grow stronger every day." _She bounced a little and kicked her legs to the music as if trying to imitate his movement, smiling and drooling at him happily as she sucked on her fist. "_No one can tell me that I'm doing wrong today, whenever I see you smile at me._"

The song hadn't finished yet, but the sound of applause caused Blaine to jump and face the doorway, cheeks flushing red. "Sam!" He exclaimed, surprised. "What are you doing here at," he checked his watch, "_Eight_ A.M.? How did you get in?"

"Mrs P let me in," the blond explained, "And I know you work weekends, and Puck's not here, so I thought I'd come over and watch the munchkin for you." He strode over to Emily and tickled her tummy, delighting in her giggles before he hoisted her up into his arms.

"Oh. Sam, that's really great of you, but I'm not working this weekend." Blaine tried to sound casual, but his dejection was obvious.

Sam's hand was on his shoulder almost instantly. "Dude, what's wrong?"

"I quit my job," Blaine confessed, ashamed to say it out loud. "I didn't mean to, really. I was already angry, and my boss seemed to have an attitude about the whole teen dad thing, and I lost my temper and quit."

"Shit, man, that sucks."

Blaine huffed a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, there's a lot of that going around at the moment." Realising that he was being a bad host, he conjured a smile. "But, ignoring that, would you like a pancake?"

-?-

Later in the day, Blaine packed a diaper bag for Emily at Sam's insistence that they head out and find Blaine another job. They trawled the nearest mall for hours, then a few local boutique stores and even Between The Sheets. When Blaine's feet were starting to ache, and Emily began to fuss at being in her pram for so long, they decided to call it a day.

"I'll grab us some burgers for dinner," Sam said as they trudged back in the direction of the car. "My treat. Then we'll check out the paper, see if anyone's hiring that way."

"Sam, this is all really nice of you, but you don't have to do this. Any of this."

"Yeah, I know. But I want to."

Blaine smiled and shook his head, opening his mouth to speak when another voice cut him off.

"Blaine! Hold up!"

Blaine cast a look over his shoulder and groaned. "Sebastian."

"Hey Killer," the Warbler greeted as he approached, then peered over the edge of the pram. "Little Killer." He cast an odd look in Sam's direction, turning to Blaine with an eyebrow arched. "What's with the Ken Doll? Where's Muscles?"

"You know you can't _actually_ talk about people like that, right?" Blaine asked in return.

"Fine. I'm sorry." Sebastian didn't sound repentant in the least. "But, really, what's with the new meat?"

"Look, dude, Blaine asked you to stop it, so-"

"Ooh, Ken speaks!" Sebastian offered a lazy smirk. "Tell me, Ken, why are you escorting Blainers and Junior here when we _all _know that it should be Muscles playing happy families?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm Blaine's friend, Smythe, and Puck is none of your business."

"Wow. Okay, you're clearly no fun at all." Sebastian turned back to Blaine, "Shouldn't you and this Puck guy be locked in a room somewhere doing all sorts of sinful things that won't in any way land you with another one of those?" He gestured to the baby.

"Seriously?" Blaine asked. "Did _everyone_ know about Puck but me?"

"Not the point right now," Sam shook his head. "Come on, we're getting burgers, remember?"

"I'm getting the feeling that you don't like me very much," Sebastian directed towards the blond, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt.

"Gosh, whatever gave you that impression? Could it, I don't know, be the fact that I _don't_?" Sam squared off in front of the other boy, ignoring Blaine's pleas to drop it because they were making a scene. "With everything you put the New Directions through last year, everything you put _Blaine _through, you think any of us are going to be okay with you suddenly reappearing just because you apologised and sang Karofsky a song?"

"Sam! Stop it." Blaine had noticed the ripple of genuine regret in Sebastian's expression. Clearly, the Warbler didn't like the reminder of his behaviour or Dave's actions anymore than Blaine had. "I can see what you're doing, but, despite my height, I'm a big boy and I can defend myself if necessary. Sebastian is harmless now. Irritating, but harmless."

Sam eyed his friend incredulously. "You're defending him? Do you remember _any_ of last year?"

"Standing right here..." Sebastian interjected, but the other two ignored him.

"No. I forgot it all." Blaine couldn't help being sarcastic. He appreciated Sam's protective streak, but he was sick and tired of people making decisions for him. "People can change, Sam. I'm not saying I want to be best friends with him or anything, but he's trying. And you're not the sort of person who attacks others, verbally or otherwise. So ignore him, okay? For me?"

Sighing resignedly, Sam nodded. "Okay. For you and the munchkin. Can't have her telling people that her Uncle Sammy isn't a nice guy."

"Ugh, you're disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sebastian interjected, making a face. "The both of you. It's revolting."

"Nobody asked you to loiter," Blaine told him, while Emily started to whimper and squirm.

Sebastian took a large step backwards. He was not a kid person at the best of times. And when they started making that noise? He didn't stick around. "And that's my cue to leave," he said, horrified by the fact that Blaine appeared to be checking her diaper. When the curly haired former object of his affections crinkled his nose and sighed dramatically, he knew leaving was definitely the right decision. Laughter followed him in his wake.

-?-

"Okay," Sam said around a mouthful of burger, "There aren't a lot of places hiring right now." He flipped over to the next page of the paper, eyes skimming down. "Unless you're interested in being an escort?" He blinked, confused. "What's an escort?"

Blaine blushed and shook his head. "Not something I'm interested in."

"Right." Sam would have to google it later. He read a bit further down. "You said you know cars, right?"

"I'm not working for Crazy Max's car yard," Blaine advised, taking another bite of his own meal.

"No, dude, Hummel's Tyre & Lube are hiring."

Blaine spluttered and almost choked. Eyes watering, he reached for his can of soda and took a deep gulp. "Jesus, Sam. Seriously?"

For his part, the blond just cast him another confused glance. "What? What's wrong with...oh. Oops. Sorry."

Able to breathe again, Blaine waved him off. "It's okay."

They were silent for a moment.

"So, uh, Kurt's still not talking to you?" It had been a few months since Blaine had dropped the baby bomb on his ex-boyfriend. Sam was surprised the fashionista was being as stubborn as he was, especially given the fact that he'd ended the relationship months before that. When Blaine looked as though someone had kicked his puppy, Sam immediately felt guilty for raising the subject. "Shit, dude, I'm sorry. For what it's worth? He's an idiot."

"Thanks, Sam." Blaine have him a small smile. "But he's got the right to be upset."

"Upset, sure. But it's been, like, three months. And you were broken up already. He should get his head out of his ass and see that his friend needs him to, y'know, get over it and be a friend like he said he would when he left." Sam sighed, embarrassed about his rant. "Sorry." The thing was, he wasn't all that sorry. He had so much in common with Blaine, so it was easy enough to relate to him.

They'd both left behind all boys boarding schools to come to McKinley, though Sam had left again when his family had moved to Kentucky. But he'd come back to his friends in their time of need, leaving his family behind much like Blaine had left Dalton to be at McKinley with Kurt. Then people had graduated and moved on, and he missed them terribly.

He couldn't imagine how Blaine felt, first losing his relationship with Kurt (who he'd loved enough to leave his safe haven for) and then losing his friendship because of one stupid, drunken, teenaged action. Hell, even Finn (who was stubborn and not all that bright) had come around for Quinn and, to some extent, Puck eventually. If he could manage it in high school, seeing them day to day, surely Kurt -all the way in New York- could man up and at least check in with Blaine from time to time. Throw the guy a bone and all that.

"You're an awesome friend, you know." Blaine said, bringing Sam out of his musings. "And I don't need Kurt to pretend to be there for me when I've got people like you who actually _are._"

Sam actually felt a little choked up by that and cleared his throat. "Wow, dude," he teased, nudging Blaine so that the boy would know his next words were lighthearted. "That was so gay."

Blaine snorted and nudged back. "Shut up. You love it."

They dissolved into laughter, and neither heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching until Puck's shadow fell over them as they sat sprawled out across the floor of the living room.

Blaine sobered immediately, straightening himself up. "Puck. Hi."

"Hey," the formerly mohawked boy replied, gaze flicking uneasily between his friends. After his confession to Sam the previous day, it was a surprise to find the guy cuddled up next to Blaine in his living room.

Sam stared back up at Puck, completely unrepentant. He saw the question in Puck's eyes, but he'd be damned if he had to justify hanging out with his friend. "Hey, Puck. What's up?"

The tension in the room was mounting, and Blaine shifted uncomfortably. It was hard being in the same room as Noah, knowing that his friend loved him but had run away instead of manning up and telling him. Wasn't he worth the risk?

The fact that the entire thing had imploded because Puck thought that Sebastian was making a move -and that Blaine was receptive of that- only made things worse. He couldn't believe that Puck would honestly think that he'd want to be with the guy that had almost blinded him, and who had tried on more than one occasion to destroy his relationship. Did Puck honestly think so little of him?

"I, uh, came back to get some more of my stuff," Puck explained, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I know Ma's on night shift and Bekah's at her friend's place..." He trailed off with a shrug, the implication that he hadn't wanted to see their disappointment unspoken but obvious.

Blaine nodded, unsure of what to say. It wasn't as though they'd fought; they were still technically best friends, they just hadn't spoken in almost a week. He wondered if Puck had any inkling as to why that would be. Surely he was intelligent enough to realise that Blaine wouldn't have been so hurt by his leaving if his feelings were purely platonic. Then again, he _had _jumped to conclusions about Sebastian...

"Okay, well, Em's asleep up there," Blaine eventually managed, "so be careful not to wake her. She's getting over a cold and needs the rest."

Puck's heart sank. After almost a week without contact with them, he had been desperately looking forward to spending time with his kid. _Blaine's_ kid. Fuck. He'd screwed himself over, hadn't he? Not even bothering to mask his disappointment, he nodded. "Yeah, okay, sure." Then, after a beat, the rest of Blaine's sentence filtered into his brain. "Wait, she's been sick? Did Ma have a look at her? Did she need meds? Dude, you should have called me."

"Why's that, Puck?" Sam asked before Blaine could answer, keeping his tone innocent, but all three of them knew that it was a challenge for the older boy to come clean about why he'd left. "You wanted space, right?"

Puck set his jaw and glared at the blond, ignoring the question. "Actually, Sam, wanna give me a hand?"

Sam considered denying the request, but Blaine pushed him forward, forcing him to take Puck's proffered hand to pull himself off the floor. Once they were up the stairs and out of earshot, Puck slammed Sam against the wall, his fists clenching around the soft material of Sam'a shirt. "What the actual fuck, dude?"

Sam pushed the older boy backwards. "What's your problem, Puck?"

"Take a wild guess, Evans." He took a step back, forcing himself to calm down, not wanting to see Em while his temper was frayed. She deserved better, even if she was asleep and oblivious to his presence. "You _know _how I feel, man. Why would you throw me under the bus like that?"

"Because I honestly think you need to tell him." Sam said, also sounding much calmer. "Anyone can see that this thing is hurting both of you." A huge part of him wanted to shake his friend and tell him that Blaine totally felt the same way about Puck, but that wouldn't be fair on Blaine. His feelings were his to share, not Sam's. Besides, Blaine had made it very clear that he wanted Puck to come around on his own.

"And I've told you that's not gonna happen."

"But-"

"No. Sam, drop it. I've tried to fix things and I just made them worse. I'm not cut out for this shit. He...he deserves better than that. So, I'm gonna suck it up and let things blow over. He'll get over the fact that I sprung this on him so suddenly soon enough. I mean, we're best friends. It's not like it was when Hummel left."

Sam smothered the urge to throttle Puck. The guy was as thick as two bricks. _'It__'s __**exactly **__like when Kurt left!' _He wanted to scream. _'Maybe even worse.'_ Biting his tongue, he pushed past Puck and stomped down the hall, forgetting about the sleeping baby. "Let's just get your stuff," he said, opening the bedroom door roughly, allowing it to swing open and meet the wall with a loud thud.

Emily woke and started crying.

"_Genius_," Puck spat, not understanding Sam's attitude in the least. He shoved the blond aside and strode over to the crib, pulling the baby up into his arms and shushing her gently. He leant over and clicked the baby monitor off, preferring to calm her in privacy, away from the listening ears of her father. "It's okay, baby girl. Did the big, mean stripper man scare you?"

Sam made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room, much to Puck's relief.

Bringing Emily up to his shoulder, he nuzzled her head with his jaw, breathing in her baby-powder scent. "I missed you," he murmured, bouncing lightly. "_God_, did I miss you."

He knew he was in way over his head, and he knew Sam was right about needing to tell Blaine how he felt. But he was terrified of rejection, of Blaine telling him that he wasn't his type and that they were better off as friends. At least this way, with him making the conscious choice to stay away, he was in control of the situation. He didn't have to face someone else he cared about (loved, really) shunning him because he was just another Lima Loser.

Emily started to drift back off to sleep and he continued to rock her, loathe to let her go. Sam had been right about her, too, in a way. Not about his feelings for Blaine being due to her existence, but about his attachment to her nonetheless. He really did feel like a Dad. Like her Dad. Hell, he practically was, aside from the DNA. He loved this baby as much as he loved Beth, his biological daughter. Possibly even more, because he wasn't _allowed _to be a father to Beth.

But was he really allowed to be a father to Emily? It had kinda seemed that way.

_'Until I ran away.' _His traitorous thoughts supplied. He swallowed against the lump that had lodged itself in his throat, unwilling to draw the parallel that his mind was pointing him to.

He still didn't know why he'd fumbled that night. He'd seemed so sure that Blaine had wanted him just as much as he wanted Blaine...but seeing Sebastian had shaken that resolve, had awoken something inside of him that was all too familiar and frustrating, and he'd not been able to man up. Jealousy and fear of rejection were all part and parcel of it, but a real man would still have fought for his heart's desires, not shoved them aside like they didn't really matter.

He obviously wasn't a real man. Blaine and Emily deserved better. He would swallow his pride and let them find it. Of course, _that _hurt him almost as much as the thought of Blaine's rejection did.

God, he was so confused. He loved Blaine. He could admit that easily enough to almost anyone who was willing to listen. Except Blaine himself. Why was it so hard to do? He was totally badass, right? So why couldn't he face the guy he had fallen for and just tell him?

His mind was running in circles and he sighed, shaking his head clear of the useless thoughts. Emily was sound asleep against him, snuffling adorably. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and lowered her back into her crib before grabbing random items of clothing and shoving them into a discarded backpack he'd found in his closet. He told the sleeping baby that he loved her before he clicked the baby monitor back on, and then made his way out the door, casting her one last look of longing.

He ignored Sam and Blaine as he strode across the living room to the front door, shooting them a half-hearted goodbye as he shut it behind him.

This wasn't what he wanted to do, he thought morosely, turning the key in his ignition. So then why was he so intent on doing it?

-?-

Blaine pulled up at the Berry household on Sunday evening for their regular weekly dinner, a tradition they'd started way back when Leroy had been minding Emily during the week. After Blaine had started taking her to the daycare at Hiram's firm, the older couple had demanded that he continue to bring her over for dinner as usual. Most weeks Puck would join them, and conversation would remain light and entertaining.

Blaine had a feeling that this one would not be as comfortable.

He unbuckled Emily's carrier and made the walk to the door with mounting unease. He didn't want to talk to these men about what had happened, not wanting to see or hear their pity. And he certainly didn't want to admit that he wasn't handling things well without Noah.

Hiram flung open the front door with a smile before Blaine could press the bell, but his pleased expression morphed into worry as soon as he set eyes on his guest. "What's wrong?" He asked, pulling the teen inside.

Blaine swallowed and shook his head. "Nothing," he said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Blaine, kiddo, you're a fantastic actor when you have a script, but you're hopeless at improvisation. This happy character you're attempting isn't really working for me." Hiram pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "So, I'm going to take this lovely little lady," he pulled Emily out of her carrier and gave her an Eskimo kiss, laughing when she reached up and grabbed his nose, "and you're going to start talking." He paused and called over his shoulder for his husband to ignore the soup for a moment and join them.

Seated across from the two men in their lounge room, Blaine found himself glossing over the basics of the last week, when his enjoyable life had begun a downward spiral into the shambles he was currently living. He told them that Puck had moved out, shrugging over the information even when Leroy narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He refused to mention anything about love, focusing instead on Emily's illness and restlessness, the jocks at school and, finally, the stupid move he'd made by quitting his job.

The two men across from him shared a look before Leroy turned to face him. "The thing I'm sure you must understand by now," he started, "is that your top priority isn't you anymore. It's Emily. Anything you do, any decisions you make, you have to start thinking of how it will affect her. She takes precedence now."

He nodded, swallowing thickly. "I know. That's why I quit, really. Because I was thinking of how much I'm not actually around for her. But then I couldn't find another job..."

"And you can't just apologise and ask for a second chance?" Hiram asked, eyes still glue to the baby in his arms.

Leroy sighed. "You heard him, Hi. He didn't like her attitude about Em, and wasn't willing to work with him about the weekends. Would you go back?"

Hiram finally looked up. "You make a valid point." He looked at Blaine. "And you've looked everywhere for something else?"

"I have. Burt Hummel is the only person hiring at the moment. I think we all know how well that would work for me." Blaine shook his head. "I think you're right, Hiram. I should just suck it up and beg for my Lima Bean apron."

"Or..." Leroy said, thinking out loud. "_I_ may have a solution. Our receptionist is taking maternity leave as of next Friday. We were going to man our phones ourselves and invest in an answering machine for any overload. If you were interested, you could work after school until Six, and until noon on Saturdays, doing the filing and all the odd jobs we don't have time for."

Blaine blinked at the older man. After having helped out so much with Emily, the Berrys were once again swooping in and saving him. Once again he found himself frustrated at having to accept their charity, but also grateful that they cared so much to constantly rearrange their own lives for him.

"I...Leroy, that sounds perfect. Are you sure you're just allowed to hire office boys at random?"

Leroy grinned. "I'm senior partner, Blaine. I can hire as many office boys as I so please." Hiram snorted. Leroy rolled his eyes. "Careful, Hi. I may just do it."

"Exactly how many attractive young men do you think are lining up to work as temps for an aging architect anyway, Leroy?" He paused. "No offence intended, Blaine."

Leroy shrugged. "I don't know. Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

"Jealous? Me? Don't be rediculous." Hiram sounded offended, but winked at Blaine before schooling his features back into disinterest. "Hiram Berry is above such trivialities."

Blaine couldn't help it, he started to laugh. The act had 'Rachel' written all over it. It didn't matter which of the men was her biological father, I was obvious that she'd picked up traits from both of them. Encouraged by a rapt audience, the two men continued to bicker playfully until the oven timer chimed.

When Blaine retuned home that night, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was momentarily saddened by the empty space beside him in bed, jealous of the loving relationship the Berry men shared, recalling their flirting with a pang.

_'One day.' _He told himself. One day he _would _have that. In the mean time he had Emily, and that was all that mattered.

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**A/N - Song used was James Taylor's 'Whenever I See Your Smiling Face'**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N - So, this chapter's kind of monumental and a bit longer than usual. Loki Firefox helped heaps with schematics and a lot of Ruth's dialogue, because he's so many levels of awesome. He's the best muse a gal could ask for. And, because he asked me so nicely, I'm posting it early. So, Lokibear (ha! It's sticking!), this one's for you. :)  
**

**I'm really, really interested in people's responses to this one. I don't like to beg for feedback very often, but this is a labour of love and I write specifically to get a reaction. Even if you dislike it, let me know (and tell me why).  
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**And now...on with the show!  
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Tuesday morning started for Puck like every other work day of the past week. He woke alone in his grimy hotel room, showered and shaved, grabbed a microwave breakfast and meandered out the door to face another day at work. He actually enjoyed his job, and working with Shannon was a bonus because she definitely knew her shit. However, the fact that he worked at McKinley was a double edged sword when it came to his proximity to Blaine.

He enjoyed the fact that he could catch glimpses of his best friend (could he even call him that anymore?) in the halls, but hated it at the same time because it only served to remind him of his mistake.

When he got to work, he poured a coffee for Shannon and found her in the gym, wiping down the equipment. They traded off, him taking the spray and rags, Shannon accepting the mug gratefully. She eyed him over the rim with caution, and he sighed, setting his task aside with a sigh. "What?" He asked tiredly.

"Just seein' how you're holding up," she informed him.

As he hadn't told anyone -bar Sam- that he'd screwed up and walked out on the best thing to ever happen to him because he was, essentially, afraid of rejection, Puck was confused and wary. "Fine..." He drew the word out. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Shannon."

Now it was her turn to sigh. "Just, you know, your boy is with Evans now and-"

"Hold up. What? Blaine and _Sam_?" He shook his head. "That is not a thing. Where would you get an idea like that?"

"The rumours started circulating on Friday. You know I don't usually buy into school gossip, but Will said the boys are actin' pretty close..."

"They're friends," he found himself arguing, though seeds of of doubt had been planted in his mind. Sam and Blaine _had _been pretty close when he'd gone by the house over the weekend. And Sam _had _been really defensive of Blaine..._No_. Seriously no. Sam was straight, and he _knew _how Puck felt; he wouldn't turn around and chase after Blaine himself. It went against their Bro Code, or something.

Did Bro Code even apply when you were interested in other guys instead of chicks? Because in _that_ situation, everyone involved was a Bro...

He was getting off track. "Seriously, Shannon, there's nothing going on there. Sam's straight. He's just being a good friend to Blaine."

She looked skeptical but nodded, and they went about the rest of their day without any further comment on the topic. However, the same couldn't be said for the rest of the school. Despite his best efforts to ignore the rumours, everywhere he turned he heard whispers about the two senior boys being spotted coming out of janitor's closets together, hugging in the halls, even singing at one another. This continued on for the rest of the week, the stories getting more and more exaggerated as time passed.

"I _totally_ saw them macking on each other," a mousey haired girl told her friend as they passed by the gym, clutching their books to their chests. It was a lie, naturally, not that her friend (or Puck) would know it. She'd only seen the boys talking quietly outside the library, heads bowed together as they whispered, but that wasn't anywhere near as sensational. "_So_ hot. That trouty mouth was, like, _made_ for kissing."

The other girl sighed and nodded, ponytail swishing from side to side. "Bet Anderson finds other uses for it, too."

They giggled, the obnoxious sound carrying down the hallway, grinding on Puck's nerves. It had been a week since he'd told Sam that he loved Blaine, and the seeds of doubt Shannon had sowed on Tuesday had sprouted into seedlings, and were rapidly growing into fast-spreading weeds. The whole school was talking about Sam and Blaine as an item, and he'd seen them canoodling together with his own eyes (but he hadn't been stalking them!) on a couple of occasions.

Anger and jealousy bubbled up inside him, and he felt betrayed by both Sam and Blaine, even though he knew he had absolutely no right to be upset with the latter. God, when had things gotten so messed up? He missed his house, he missed his Ma, he missed Bekah, he missed Blaine and he desperately missed his kid.

Yeah, okay, he knew she wasn't his, but to him she _was. _In all the ways that mattered. He was sick of fighting against it, sick of telling himself that she was just a friend's baby. And if he wanted to call her his kid then he would.

Except things were still crap between him and Blaine, and he couldn't figure out why. Sure, he'd just sprung his leaving on him, and had spouted off some pretty shitty reasons for it, but that had been almost two weeks ago. Shouldn't Blaine have shrugged it off by now? It wasn't as though Puck had told him that _he_ was the reason for Puck's leaving. It had sort of been implied, though, in a round about way.

_Huh_. Puck's mind started drawing those parallels again, to another man who ran away when things got too much to deal with. He didn't like that at all. But he had to face the truth: it was _exactly_ what he'd done. And if it stood to reason that Em was his kid, he'd done the unthinkable and walked out on her, too.

Puckerman genetics were obviously more than just aesthetic in value.

Noah had sworn that that particular scenario would never happen. But something inside of him had snapped. He'd had his chance and he'd blown it.

He honestly couldn't believe how badly he'd screwed up. Every relationship he'd had before now had been ended by someone else's hand: Quinn, Rachel, Lauren, Shelby. He'd been attached to each one of them in turn and yet they had all dumped him. Then he'd fallen head over heels in love with Blaine and had been too scared to even give the guy a _chance_ to break him, terrified of being rejected by his best friend.

So instead of even testing the waters, he'd pushed Blaine away, directly into Sam's arms, then -like a fool- had spilled his secrets to the blond, thinking him a friend. This last week proved how wrong he was on that front, didn't it?

With a sigh he forced himself to focus on work, determined to get at least one thing in his life right. When the final bell for the day rang, he gathered his belongings, waved goodbye to Shannon, and steered himself in the only direction he hoped would help.

-?-I

"Oh, _Noah_," Ruth sighed when she arrived home after work to find her son slumped at the kitchen table, a miserable expression painted on his face. Her heart ached for him, even though she knew his own decisions had caused the hurt reflected in his eyes.

"Hey Ma," he greeted, nodding but failing to maintain the 'tough boy' act he was striving for.

She shook her head sadly and sat across from him, carding her fingers through his short hair, pleased he was still growing it. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" She rarely ever used endearments or loving epithets for him these days, but he was still her baby boy and he looked like someone had run over his puppy.

"I screwed up," he told her simply. "I...I love him and I..." He shrugged, unable to finish the statement. "Turns out I'm just like Dad."

"Noah..."

"I am! I know I am. I didn't wanna be. I told myself I'd never..." He swallowed. "But I did. I got jealous and afraid and I ran away. I just up and left and..." Puck took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. "I _hate _that I'm like him. I don't _want_ to be like him." His hands shook and he rubbed at his neck if only to hide the tremors. "And you _told _me not to screw it up, and I still did, and I _hate_ that I did." He shook his head, not having felt this out of control since the day Beth had been born, when Quinn had forced him to sign the papers with a shaking hand. "I'm a disappointment, aren't I? I can't do anything right. Just. Like. Him."

She'd slapped him upside the head before he could even register it had happened.

"_Ow_! Ma! What the hell?" He glared at her, wondering over the change in her demeanour. What had happened to sympathy? He'd _liked_ the sympathy.

"That's for blubberring like your Aunt Rebecca. If you can't face this here with me, how do you expect to do right by Blaine and Emily?"

"What the _fu_-!"

Ruth leant over and smacked him again before he could finish the sentence. "_That's_ for cursing."

Puck rubbed at the back of his head, recalling all too quickly that his mom could sure pack a wallop. She'd had to to keep him in line all these years.

"I love you Noah, but sometimes you need a good hit on the head to get your brain to start thinking. You're not stupid, but sometimes you need reminding which brain to use. At least this time it was your heart that was overwhelming you and not your penis."

His eyes widened, "Ma!"

"What? It isn't something I haven't seen before and, if what some of the people at Temple have been saying is true, I'm not the only woman my age who has seen it either."

"_Ma_!" This was accompanied by a wince.

"Are you staying for dinner? You're staying for dinner." She got up from the table and started digging through the fridge and the cupboards, organising ingredients and pots on the counter. "You're nothing like your father, you know."

Puck frowned. "I-"

"Don't argue with me, Noah." Ruth turned back to face him, waving a wooden spoon emphatically in his direction. "As I said, you do things without thinking, but you're not stupid or selfish. Your father was both those things, and then some. James left because he couldn't take the pressure. He didn't want to be saddled with responsibility. You left because you thought Blaine deserved better." She wanted to tell him that it was obvious that Blaine loved him, but knew it wasn't her place. There were some things the boys needed to work out for themselves. "You don't value yourself enough, Noah. You don't give yourself enough credit. I suppose I'm partially to blame for that."

"What? No!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His mother had been the best parent anyone could ask for, especially for all the hell he'd put her through. She'd never once kicked him out -even after that stupid shit with the ATM- or told him that she hated or resented him, even though he'd made life difficult for longer than he could remember. She'd never failed to be honest with him or give him a reality check when he needed it, much like now. How could she ever think that his flaws were her fault?

"No, Noah, listen to me. I haven't told you enough how proud I am of you. You're going to college, Noah. _College_. To be a teacher! There was a time I thought...well, let's just say I underestimated you more than a mother should." She set aside the knife she was using to dice vegetables, and sighed. "But I was wrong. You are a wonderful young man, Noah. You are working hard to turn your life around. You are a great, loyal friend and a devoted, loving father. My granddaughter is lucky to have you, even if you have made a few mistakes lately." She shrugged, "It's the curse of parenting. It's not easy, and you're bound to screw up occasionally."

His eyes were wide with surprise. It was obvious that she wasn't talking about Beth, but he hadn't breathed a word to her about Emily. Admitting to his mother that he had stumbled into becoming a teen Dad a second time around was a daunting thought, and he hadn't wanted to disappoint her.

Ruth laughed at his expression. "Did you really think I didn't know that you loved him when you brought them home? That I didn't know you were going to fall in love with that baby? Noah, I knew you were going to be a father to that little girl before you said boo about them staying, whether I allowed it or not. I raised you, remember? I can read you like a book. And you were in love with Blaine Anderson back when I first questioned you about being attracted to boys. You just hadn't realised it yet."

Puck was up out of his seat and hugging his mother within seconds. "You're the best mom ever," he told her, blinking back tears, mindful of the fact that she'd hit him if he turned into a hysterical lunatic again. "Seriously." How many other moms would be cool with their Eighteen year old sons bringing home another boy and raising a baby with him?

"In that case," she handed him a vegetable peeler and nodded at the potatoes, "prove your newfound appreciation of your mother and get to work."

-?-

"So, I couldn't resist," Sam said as Blaine climbed into the passenger seat of his car, Emily already fast asleep in the carrier in the back. He'd driven Blaine to school and then work that afternoon with the plan to pick the two Andersons up from the Berry residence (Hiram would be bringing Emily home after work while Blaine rode with Leroy) and head back to the Puckerman household for a CoD night.

Blaine smiled at his friend, clicking his seatbelt. "Yeah? What this time? Another Batman comic?"

"Nope."

"Superman then."

Sam laughed and shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. "Nuh-uh."

"Come on, Sam, what?"

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise?" Blaine's grin dimmed a little, realising that his friend must have actually purchased something for him rather than himself. "Sam, that's not fair. I hate surprises."

"Oh, you'll like this one."

"Sam..." Blaine shook his head. Sam couldn't afford to be buying random gifts any more than Blaine could. They were both living with families that weren't their own, trying to support themselves as much as possible.

Hearing his friend's hesitation, Sam cast him a quick look of reassurance before concentrating on the road again. "It's all good, dude, I didn't spend a lot."

"Shouldn't have spent anything."

"You don't even know what I bought yet!"

Blaine watched the way Sam was practically vibrating with excitement and found his own growing again. Obviously, whatever Sam had purchased was just as much for him anyway. That made Blaine feel a lot more at ease with the idea. "Fine. When do I get this surprise?"

"Soon."

"You're killing me here, Evans."

Sam laughed and they continued to banter for the next few minutes until they pulled up at the Puckerman house, neither noticing the familiar truck parked across the street. Sam pulled Emily's carrier out of the backseat and tilted his head towards the trunk. "Go on, go get your surprise."

Blaine bounded to the back of the car, exaggerating his excitement for Sam's benefit. He opened the trunk and found a package wrapped in pink. Deciding it was time to give Sam a little of his own medicine, he held the gift up. "This one?" He asked. "Should I wait and open it inside?"

"_Dude_! Come on!" Sam was almost bouncing on his heels, and Blaine worried that the blond would shake Emily's carrier too hard.

"Okay. Okay." He started unwrapping the packaging, careful not to tear the paper. "Oh!" He exclaimed as the box came into view, "Wow, Sam. I thought you said you didn't spend a lot? I can't accept this." It was a toy shaped like a guitar, with a panel of brightly coloured buttons down the neck that, when pressed, would produce a variety of different tunes.

"Good thing it's not for you, then." Sam lifted the carrier in his hand a little higher. "It's for this little lady." He shrugged. "And it was on sale. I couldn't resist."

Blaine clutched the box to his chest and started the walk towards the door. "It's awesome, Sam. Thank you," he gushed, stepping into the living room, his friend on his heels.

Sam set the carrier down and gave Blaine a hug. "You're totally welcome. I figured we could get her started on the instruments nice and early."

At this point, Puck emerged from the kitchen and leant against the doorframe, watching unashamedly. Neither boy clued in to his presence, too wrapped up in each other. It made Puck's chest squeeze painfully.

"So you went with guitar?" Blaine teased, stepping back. "What about the keyboard? You know I want to teach her piano pretty badly. You're totally trying to influence her into liking the guitar better."

"Oh no, you've foiled my evil plan!"

Blaine laughed. "Are you planning on teaching her to play? Because, yeah, I can play, but you're better."

Where Puck had thought it hurt to see them hugging, hearing Blaine asking Sam to be Emily's guitar teacher just about killed him. That should be his job! _He _had mad guitar skills. Emily was _his _kid. Even his Ma said so! Whether or not he and Blaine were together, he was _not _letting Sam take that away from him.

"Well," he drawled, finally getting their attention. "This is..._sweet._"

"Puck! Hi. I, uh, I didn't realise you were here." Blaine stammered, taking another step back from Sam, and it didn't go unnoticed by either of the others.

"Cool toy," he gestured at the box in Blaine's hand. "Nice choice, Evans."

Sam nodded. "Thanks. Our girl's gotta start early, right?"

_Our_ girl? Who the hell did Sam think he was? Emily was _not _his. Puck fought the urge to growl at the blond, reminding himself of all the things his mother had said. He had to stop, think and fix this, for Emily. With a tight smile, he agreed. "Right." Puck shifted his attention to the snoozing baby and immediately brightened. Without asking for permission he swept down and pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead and rocking her back to sleep when she started to wake. "Want me to put her down for the night?" He asked Blaine.

Sam's eyes widened with realisation. It looked like Puck might finally be manning up. He grinned broadly at the older boy and then turned to Blaine. "Hey, so, I know I said I'd hang around for CoD, but I just remembered that I have a thing."

Forgetting Puck for a moment, Blaine frowned at Sam. "A thing?"

"Yeah, uh, helping Mrs H do a thing. Um, yeah."

"Sam..." Blaine didn't understand. Had he missed something?

"I'm really sorry, dude. Call me tomorrow once you're home from work, okay? We'll take Em to the park like we were going to..." Sam gave him another hug, squeezing the shorter boy with a little more force than usual before he pulled back. He nodded at Puck, bid his goodbyes, and then practically ran out the door.

When Blaine turned back around, he was confronted by Puck's serious stare. "Can we talk?" Puck asked, and it almost felt like things were back to normal between them.

The curly haired boy nodded. "Upstairs? We should actually put her to bed."

Puck agreed and they made their way to the bedroom that had once been theirs. After putting Emily into her crib, the former jock gestured for his friend to sit on the bed, then started pacing.

"Okay," he began, suddenly feeling nervous. This really was it. He had to say his piece, even though he had very little chance of Blaine reciprocating his feelings now. And, God, the bedroom was suddenly a far too intimate place to be doing this. Why hadn't he said they should talk in the lounge?

Blaine watched Puck pace, a good idea of where this was heading, but not willing to speak up. He wanted to see the older boy squirm a little. For all the drama he'd caused, a little discomfort sounded like a fair price to pay.

"So, you and Sam, huh?" Puck could slap himself. Seriously? He was opening with that? _This_ was the man that had charmed half of Lima's female population? He was so out of practice.

Blaine stared back at his friend in disbelief. Puck didn't honestly think that he and Sam were together, did he? Puck really was clueless. Worse still, it was the thought of him dating Sam that had finally pushed Puck into this conversation, which meant that Sam (damn him) had been right. He wondered how far he could take this, how far he could push Puck before he snapped and just admitted how he felt. It was probably wrong to tease, but Puck had brought this on himself. "Sam and I," he repeated, neither confirming or denying.

Puck bit his lip, reminding himself that he had no right to be upset. He needed to fix things not make them worse, even though he wanted to find Sam Evans and rearrange his face. "Right," he nodded, assuming the worst. "Well, that's...uh, great. For you guys. Excellent." And awkward. So awkward.

"Do you have a problem with Sam, Puck?"

"I...no. I mean, I told him...and then..." He was babbling again. He paused and bit his lip. He had to be honest, right? Even if it was going to all end in tears. "No, okay, you know what? I kind of do. Because I told him that I was in love with you and the next thing I know, he's all over you and that's kind of a douche move on his part." Blaine moved to say something, but Puck wasn't done yet. He held his hand out to silence the younger boy. "I gotta finish this, okay? I know I don't have the right to be upset about it, 'cos, like, what I did...it was a douche move, too. I got scared and I fucked up. So, y'know, I'm glad he's there for you. Even if I kind of hate him for it. But I'm too late, and that's my fault, so..." he trailed off. "Hey, are you _laughing_?"

Blaine's shoulders shook as he tried to reel in his amusement. He knew it was cruel of him to react this way when Puck was very clearly pouring his heart out, but he still couldn't believe that the guy honestly thought that Sam and he were dating. "I'm sorry, Noah."

Embarrassment sinking in, Puck scowled and backed away towards the door. "Right. Laugh it up. I tell you I love you and you laugh in my face. Nice."

"Puck, no, wait, come back." Blaine was standing now, grabbing at Puck's arm, trying to get him to turn around. "I'm laughing because you're still so stupid."

"What? That's supposed to be _helping_ right now?" Puck shook his head. "I'm outta here."

"No! I'm not explaining this properly. Puck, I'm not '_with' _Sam. He's straight. And even if he wasn't, I wouldn't be with him. Want to know why?"

Heart starting to beat incredibly fast, Puck swallowed and nodded.

Blaine took another step closer, invading Puck's personal space. "Because I'm in love with a gorgeous, talented, usually smart guy who, recently, has said and done some pretty stupid things."

"You..." Puck licked his lips. "Really?"

Blaine contemplated a sarcastic 'No, Puck, I'm lying', but, seeing the hopeful and bewildered expression on Puck's face, opted against it. "Really," he replied softly. "But I don't know if that's enough, Puck. If it was just me, sure, but I have to think of Emily. She's my number one priority. And I need people in my life who understand that."

"I do. I totally do. I love her, Blaine, and I miss her, and I can't imagine living my life without either of you in it. I made a huge mistake, and I've beaten myself up over it ever since. I won't be walking out the door again, I swear, even when things get tough."

Blaine smiled at that, his eyes glittering with happiness, and Puck found himself leaning forward, closing the space between them. And then his mother knocked on the damn door, declaring dinner ready. Blaine sprang backwards, flustered, and Puck sighed heavily. Awesome though she might be, he couldn't help but curse her.

"Worst timing ever." He grumbled, following Blaine down the hall.

Blaine shot him a look over his shoulder. "Are you going to stay around after dinner? Maybe talk some more?"

Puck nodded. "There is nowhere else I'd rather be."

Blaine smiled and, as he was turning away, Puck called out. "Blaine?"

The shorter boy turned back with a question on his face. Puck took a deep breath and he saw Blaine's brow begin to furrow. He plowed forward immediately; this was important. "I know we just kinda made up and it may be too soon to ask for favours but I gotta ask."

"Sure, Puck," Blaine allowed, mind whirring with all the possibilities. "What is it?"

"Please let _me_ be the one to teach Em how to play the guitar, otherwise I think I might have to strangle Sam after all."

Blaine's brows rose in surprise before his expression melted into a smile that made everything Puck had been through worth it. But then he turned back around, ignoring the question with a smirk.

As Blaine walked down to the kitchen without answering, Puck called out after him, "I'm totally serious about this! Blaine? _Babe_?"

-?-

After dinner the boys went back up to the bedroom, both lost in thought, wondering what the next logical step was. Puck was hesitant to say anything that might ruin the ground he'd regained, still so worried that Blaine would realise that forgiving him was a stupid move. Blaine wanted to tell Puck that he should move back home, but wondered if that was too forward and clingy. They both started to speak at the same time, standing awkwardly in front of the bed.

"I-"

"Blaine-"

Emily, naturally, chose that moment to wake up, make a spluttering sound and vomit all over herself, bursting into a distressed wail immediately afterwards. Anything Blaine was going to say was immediately forgotten, his attention solely on his daughter. He moved forward to take her, but Puck shook his head, somehow beating him to the crib.

"I got this," the older boy said. Making soothing sounds, he shifted her to his shoulder, not bothered about the transference of sick to his shirt, just concerned with making the baby feel better. The baby bath and a majority of her supplies were in the room, so he moved by way of habit, lying her down in the middle of his bed while he stripped the soiled clothes from her squirming body, wiping the edges of her mouth tenderly. He boxed her in with pillows and grabbed the plastic tub that lived under her crib, handing it to Blaine in a way that was all-too-familiar.

He pulled his own shirt off after Blaine had left to go fill the tub with lukewarm water and discarded it in the same direction as the baby's clothing, resolved to do a load of washing later. Within moments he was clad in a new shirt and was rifling through Emily's things, pulling out a new sleeper, diaper, wipes and powder. He slung the supplies under his arm and then picked Emily up, holding her snug against his shoulder, resting his cheek against hers, murmuring endearments.

He walked into the bathroom just as Blaine finished making the tub up and stabilising it on the counter, their usual bottle of baby cleanser within reach. Blaine dampened a soft washcloth and brought it up to Emily's face, wiping it clean of the remaining traces of her vomit and runny nose. Puck set her down on the towel on the counter, unfastening her diaper. She squirmed as he wiped her clean before passing her to Blaine, who lowered her into the warm water, where she seemed to relax almost instantly. They washed her together as they always had, using the soft washcloth and a little bit of the cleanser, Puck's large hand scooping up water from the tub and rinsing her off.

"I read that she's old enough to take a bath with her now," Blaine said, filling the semi-awkward silence that permeated the room. "The books say that it's good for bonding. Something about skin-to-skin contact."

Puck knew the comment wasn't at all sexual, but his mind immediately flew to Blaine naked and in the bath, skin glistening, Emily nowhere in sight. Skin-to-skin contact with Blaine would be great for him, too, he mused, before giving himself a mental slap. What the hell was wrong with him? Things had been mended with Blaine for less than two hours! He didn't even know where they stood yet. Were they back to friends? Were they more? Either way, he didn't think it was the time or place to be thinking those things.

"That'd be cool," he eventually forced out, putting himself into the same headspace as Blaine. And the more he thought of it, the more he actually agreed that it did sound good, being able to connect with his kid like that. Not that Blaine knew that he actually thought of Emily as his kid. _Damnit_. He was getting ahead of himself again.

Blaine smiled and lifted Emily out of the bath when the water started to cool, putting her straight onto the towel and wrapping her up just like Ruth had taught them all those weeks earlier. He patted her dry, careful to stay gentle and not rub, before smoothing a mild moisturising lotion over her little body and dressing her for bed. He yawned as he lifted her up into his embrace, kissing her forehead.

"Dude," Puck said, his hand finding its place at the small of Blaine's back before he could stop himself, "You look wrecked. We'll put her down and then you should crash for a bit. I'll clean up here." He gave his friend a tender shove out the door. "We'll talk later, okay?"

When he made it back into his room, both Emily and Blaine were asleep in their usual places. His heart beat a little faster at the sight, and he promised himself that he'd do his best to make sure that this was how things would stay.

He debated his next move for a few moments, before giving in to temptation and crawling into bed beside Blaine, propped up on his elbow, content to watch the other boy sleep. And then, without meaning to, he drifted off himself, more relaxed than he'd been since before the night he'd done the unthinkable.

Blaine woke up a few hours later, refreshed by the nap. He was disorientated at first, but took in the familiar arm and leg that had pinned him to the mattress and felt a part of himself melt with happiness. Granted, this was the first time he'd ever found himself in this position when they'd been fully clothed, but it was just as enjoyable as all the other times. Perhaps even more so, now that he didn't have to feel guilty for enjoying it. The arm around him tightened its hold and pulled him flush against the taller boy's chest, and Blaine registered that Noah was also slowly coming back to consciousness. He closed his eyes, not exactly feigning sleep, but curious to see how Noah would react to their familiar position.

Puck woke up groggily, eyes adjusting to the darkness of his room, semi-startled as he realised that he'd fallen asleep and proceded to wrap himself around the object of his affections as they napped. He swallowed roughly, curling himself as tightly around Blaine as he could without waking him, savouring the moment. Once Blaine woke up, they'd have to talk things through, and that might mean that waking up like this would be a thing of the past. He pressed a kiss to the top of Blaine's hair, thankful that it wasn't a god-awful gel helmet, and sighed shakily. "I've missed this the most," he confessed by whisper into the darkness, confident because he thought Blaine was asleep. "I was a fucking idiot."

Blaine couldn't take it anymore. The warm embrace that spoke more about Puck's feelings than words ever could, coupled with the kiss to his head, had almost been his undoing. But when Puck's voice, so genuine and emotive, started whispering about his regret, he knew he couldn't allow the older boy to continue to believe that he was asleep. He hesitated half a moment, keeping his eyes closed, giving himself one last chance to back out and try to salvage a friendship rather than try and take things further. But his heart wanted what it wanted -as did his body, he was a hormonal teenager after all- and he bit the bullet. "Yeah, you really were." Puck tensed up and Blaine rolled over, still confined by the older boy's limbs, putting them almost nose-to-nose. "Hi," he greeted, somewhat shyly.

Puck blinked, not exactly processing what had just happened. One second Blaine had been asleep, the next he was _rightthere, _expressive golden-brown eyes shining with unshed tears, hope and -Puck hoped that the entire evening hadn't been a dream- love. "Uh...hi?"

"Hi." Blaine said again.

Puck swallowed again, the proximity to Blaine's lips providing a visual and mental distraction that wasn't helping him in terms of keeping his original planned conversation on track. He shifted as his jeans quickly became uncomfortably tight, unintentionally grinding against Blaine and discovering that the other boy was just as affected by their position. They moaned almost in unison, and then all bets were off as far as Puck was concerned.

He dove in for the kiss, slanting his lips over Blaine's as the shorter boy responded eagerly. He didn't have the time -or compulsion- to really think about the subtle differences between kissing a guy instead of a girl, too wrapped up in just how good the kiss felt, how _right _it felt. Their tongues met and Puck felt a jolt of pleasure, pure and primal and _raw_, course through him, igniting a fire in his veins. He groaned, rocking his hips forward as he hooked his leg around Blaine's impressive ass, preventing him from pulling away. And, _holymotherofGod_, why had he wasted so much time when they could have been doing this all along? Without the layers of clothing between them! The thought almost short-circuited his brain and it took a whole world of self-control to pull back and not spend himself in his jeans like a fourteen year old.

Panting, Puck pulled out of the kiss and stared at Blaine in wonder. "Not that I'm complaining," he managed to choke out, even while his entire body was demanding that he finish what they'd just started, "But...what...this...you...I'm..." He licked his now swollen lips, gesturing between himself and Blaine, taking a steadying breath. "What's actually happening here? 'Cos, y'know, epic douche here, remember?"

Blaine's cheeks flushed with both arousal and embarrassment, and he sighed. _Openandhonest_, he reminded himself. It wouldn't be fair to start a relationship if they weren't on the same page. "I...I overheard you talking to Sam last week," he confessed. "In the gym. I heard everything. So I've had a while to process before today."

Puck's smile fell. "So, what's this then? Obligation? _Pity_?" He tried pulling back, feeling humiliation seeping into his bones.

Blaine held strong. "God no. Puck..._Noah_, I meant what I said earlier. I love you, okay? And I was hurt when you walked out, especially because I didn't understand why. I thought maybe you'd worked out how _I_ felt about _you _and flipped out. And then I heard you tell Sam that you've been struggling with the exact same thing I have, and I felt so stupid because we've both spent the last few months so wrapped up in thinking about keeping the feelings hidden that we missed seeing how reciprocated they are." With a burst of confidence, he thrust his own hips forward, pushing Puck onto his back, straddling him and grinding down. "And they are so, _so_ reciprocated."

"_Jesus, _Blaine." From his new position Puck brought one of his hands up to the back of Blaine's head, tangling his fingers in the fine curls, pulling the boy's head down for another kiss. This one was more demanding than their first, and he found his other hand gripping at Blaine's hip, pulling him closer, seeking more friction. "You don't wanna take things slow?" He somehow managed to ask, meeting Blaine's gaze.

"Slow?" Blaine shook his head, taking the opportunity to duck down and suck at the tanned clavicle presented to him now that Puck's shirt had shifted slightly, smirking at the groan his action elicited. "What do you call the last three months _atleast_, Puck?" He hadn't thought it would be quite so difficult to convince Noah -of all people- to move things along quickly now that they'd both admitted to being stubborn, stupid and in love with each other. He found Puck's sudden determination to be a gentleman both endearing and frustrating. He leant down and whispered hotly into Puck's ear, "I've thought about having you in this position since my first night here."

Puck bucked his hips at the admission, inhaling sharply. "_Fuck_, Blaine."

"Kind of what I'm aiming for right now." Blaine pressed his hips downward again to illustrate his point.

Puck felt his brain turn to goo. Since when was Blaine the forceful type? Not that he was complaining. This confident, direct, somewhat domineering version of the other boy was 'Capital H' Hot. "But...Em-"

"Is fast asleep. And we can be quiet."

Puck couldn't believe what he was hearing. At some point he figured he was going to wake up in his shitty motel room wearing a pair of sticky boxers, because no way was this actually happening. "Who are you and what have you done with my dapper best friend?" He asked, breath hitching when Blaine only laughed quietly and started laving at his neck and jaw with a tongue that seemed way too flexible to really exist. Puck eventually gave in to temptation, meeting Blaine's lips for another kiss, allowing his hands to squeeze and stroke at every bit of Blaine he could reach, taking note of the younger boy's reactions as he explored the new territory.

When Blaine sat back on his haunches, knees astride Puck's muscular thighs, his hands flew to the hem of the older boy's shirt. He locked eyes with Puck once more. "You're okay with this?" He asked, "Because I know you've never...I mean, with another guy, and-"

"I'm good," Noah nodded, "More than good." Blaine grinned and tugged at the shirt, and Puck arched up, bringing his arms up to help yank the offending item off, tossing it God-only-knew where. He preened a little under Blaine's appreciative stare, swallowing roughly as the other boy's hands ran over his abdomen. "Hey, I'm not the only one getting naked here," he murmured, pulling at Blaine's shirt when the curly haired boy leant in for another kiss. "We're a little uneven."

"Can't have that," Blaine agreed, sitting up and removing his shirt swiftly, sending it flying in the same direction as Puck's.

Puck pulled him down for another kiss, groaning at the feel of skin-on-skin when their chests met, Blaine stretching out on top of him. "I could get used to this," Noah murmured as more clothing disappeared, hands fumbling with belt buckles along the way. Soon enough they were stretched out on their sides, facing each other in only their boxers, a position that was so familiar and yet brand new.

Despite how urgent their actions had been mere minutes earlier, now divested of the layers that had separated them the teens slowed down, kissing languidly, their hands roaming freely. The air was permeated with breathy sighs and the occasional gasp or sharp inhalation, Blaine giggling when Puck found the ticklish spot at his waist.

"_So_ gonna use that to my advantage," the former jock promised with a grin, and Blaine rolled his eyes, shifting his hands to the waistband of his boyfriend's boxers.

"You really want to threaten me right now?" He questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh..._no_?"

"That'd be the right choice."

They kissed again, pressing up close, underwear finally disappearing, both men revelling in the slide of sweat-slicked skin and the heat radiating outwards from each other. After quietly asking if Puck was still clean (he knew the other boy used to get regular medicals) Blaine took great pleasure in _finally_ being able to lick a trail down Puck's abdomen, his hands wandering, and Puck found himself unravelling quickly from there, foggy brain deciding that Blaine's ministrations were better than anything he'd experienced before.

And this was just the beginning, he realised with a start, drawing Blaine back up to his mouth, his hand sliding down between them to lazily return the favour and take Blaine over the edge, swallowing the boy's satiated moans with another kiss.

There was so much more to experience with Blaine, so much that he had absolutely no history with, save for a few short google excursions when he'd realised that his feelings for his best friend were more than platonic. And if watching those 'educational' videos had left him short of breath, he knew he was going to enjoy the learning curve. Practice would make perfect, right?

Afterwards they slumped together, Blaine's head pillowed on Puck's chest, the older boy toying idly with his curly hair, each willing their heart rates to return to normal.

"That was...wow." Puck said softly. "I...you're amazing, Blaine."

Blaine smiled and pressed a chaste kiss on the smooth expanse of skin beneath his face. "You're not so bad yourself," he teased. Admittedly, he'd been terrified that Puck wouldn't enjoy being with him, that he would realise that his attraction wasn't as intense as he'd thought, that he really did prefer girls. But Blaine needn't have worried; Puck had been responsive and eager, and that had calmed his concerns. "Move back home?" The question tumbled out before he could stop it and he cursed himself for sounding so clingy so soon. The hand in Blaine's hair stilled, and he panicked. "Or don't. I mean, of course you need time to actually think about us, because this is probably really different and, I don't know, _weird _for you, and-"

"Blaine, shut up." Puck peered down at his boyfriend (_whoa_, that felt bizarre to think, but awesome nonetheless) and shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere again. I'm moving back in first thing tomorrow. Em needs both her dads right here."

Blaine blinked, a whole new level of warmth blossoming in his chest. He couldn't find the words to express himself or his love for the man he was snuggled up against. He propped himself up on his arm and kissed Puck with all he had, hoping the action conveyed what words could not.

Squeezing Blaine tightly to let him know the message was received, Puck waited a beat before asking, "Does this mean I get to teach her to play the guitar?"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N - So...this is it, the final chapter. I could have kept writing the boys and Em forever, but that would have become boring in terms of plot. There _will_ be an epilogue to come. Thank you to each and every one of you who has followed, reviewed, favourited and read this. When I penned the first chapter, I never imagined that I would be so pleased with the fic, or that it would be finished so quickly.**

**I also never imagined that I would pick up an amazing new friend/penpal/kindred spirit who would be happy to hear out all of my insane ramblings and offer such amazing help. I'm talking, of course, about Loki Firefox. He saved this chapter from imminent doom in a number of places, and I have lifted a lot of his dialogue directly , so much so that I need to place emphasis on the fact that he practically co-wrote this chapter. Loki, I've said it a number of times, and I probably won't stop saying it any time soon - you are so many levels of awesome. Thanks for putting up with my crazy; it's addictive having someone so similar to talk to. I hope you enjoy the finished piece. :)  
**

**And now...onwards!  
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"So..." Sam prompted the next afternoon as he walked through the park beside Blaine, soaking in the warmth of the sun. "You gonna tell me what happened between you and Puck last night? 'Cos you're smiling like the cat that got the cream, man." He paused and made a face, realising the opportunity he'd left open for a bad dirty joke.

Thankfully Blaine was too busy being caught up in his obvious joy to notice. "It was perfect, Sam," he gushed, pushing Emily's stroller towards their usual bench near the pond. "He apologised and explained and told me he loved me. Then..." He stopped himself from oversharing, the blush creeping up his neck telling more than he needed to. He cleared his throat, pointedly ignoring Sam's wolf whistle. "He told me that he's Emily's Dad too."

Sam beamed at him. "That's awesome, dude. I knew he'd come around. He's not a complete moron after all."

"Yeah, well, he thought that you and I were dating, so..." Blaine trailed off with a shrug. Sam laughed. "What?"

"He _was _jealous!" The blond crowed. "I _told_ you!"

"Sam, we didn't even go with your stupid plan." Blaine responded, caught between exasperation and amusement in equal measures.

"Seaman's tricks."

"What?"

"You know, when you say something else to mean the same thing I just said. Apparently sailors do it all the time."

"Mean the same thing...wait do you mean 'semantics'?"

"That's it."

"Sam, I don't think sailors-"

"Whatever Anderson," Sam said, waving Blaine's argument away. "He still thought we were together and it made him finally cave and talk to you, so I was still right all along, wasn't I?" They'd stopped by the bench and Sam leant over the pram, pulling Emily out and holding her at eye level. "Your Uncle Sammy," he informed her, "is a genius." She grinned gummily and gurgled at him and he brought her back down, propping her above his hip. "Wanna go see the ducks? Quack quack quack."

"I know someone else who's a quack." Blaine adlibbed, sotto voce.

Sam rolled his eyes goodnaturely, addressing the baby girl in his arms. "Daddy's just pouting 'cos Uncle Sammy outsmarted him."

"Uncle Sammy had a lucky break."

"Daddy should be _happy_ that Uncle Sammy got him and Papa Puckerman to kiss and make up."

"You and Muscles finally got your act together?" Sebastian's voice came out of nowhere, startling both boys, Blaine even jumping a little at the unexpected intrusion.

"What, are you _stalking_ him now, Smythe?" Sam recovered first, glowering in the Warbler's direction while Blaine clutched at his own chest like had suffered a coronary. "Where the hell'd you come from, anyway?"

"Language," Sebastian admonished, gesturing at the dark haired infant. "Little Killer's going to be repeating the things you say soon enough."

"Just answer the damn question."

With a put-upon sigh, Sebastian shook his head. "No, I am not stalking anybody. I was out walking Pongo, my sister's dog," he gestured to the labrador that was sniffing around a nearby tree, "and I saw you two ambling along and thought I'd come say hello."

"Shouldn't he be on a leash?" Sam asked, a little uneasy having the baby around a strange dog, no matter how friendly it seemed.

Sebastian shrugged and made a sweeping gesture. "I'm not too bothered if he runs away. Damn mutt mauled my best pair of Ferragamos. Patent leather _Ferragamos_, Ken. Can you imagine?"

"I'm sure you'll live." Sam drawled, muttering under his breath, "Unfortunately."

Deciding that the blond wasn't interesting, Sebastian turned back to face Blaine, wrapping his arm around the shorter boy's shoulders and steering him down the path. "So...you and Muscles kissed and made up, hey? I want _all _the dirty details. No skimping; I'll be able to tell."

Cheeks flushing, Blaine rolled his eyes and pulled up short, trying to keep Emily in his line of vision. "Not going to happen."

"You're no fun at all, you know."

"I'm sorry to disappoint." Blaine didn't sound apologetic at all.

Sebastian sighed and whistled shrilly, getting the dog's attention. It lolloped over obediently, sitting by his feet and nudging his hand with its head. He scratched its ears reluctantly. "You're happy, though, right?" He asked, tone low and genuine. "I mean, you've got a kid, Blaine. Things can't honestly be easy."

Blaine was taken by surprise, unused to seeing Sebastian so serious. "They're not always easy, no," he admitted, watching Sam take Emily down to where a family of ducks were floating in the pond, "but I am happy."

"What about after school? You were going to get out of Ohio. How are you going to do that with your tiny little clone?" He wasn't being argumentative, just curious.

Blaine swallowed. He'd been giving this a lot of thought. He wanted to be the sort of role model for Emily that she could be proud of; one that worked hard and followed his dreams and didn't let people tell him it was impossible, so that one day she would have the confidence and drive to do the same. Yeah, it was going to be difficult with a baby in tow, but he was sure he could manage. He hadn't chosen the easy path when Emily had been left on his doorstep and he was succeeding so far, so why would he give up when it came to their future? "I'm going to work my ass off," he eventually replied. "I'm applying for scholarships and grants, I've been taking AP classes for the last couple of years..." He shrugged. "It's going to happen."

"And this Puck guy, where will he fit in with that plan?"

Blaine dared to hope that Puck would transfer Colleges to be with him and Emily, but didn't voice the thought out loud. Instead, he shrugged, hoping it looked nonchalant. "That's up to him. My priority is Emily. Everything -every_one_- else comes second to her."

Sebastian shook his head, clasping a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "I couldn't do it," he admitted, offering the former warbler a self-deprecating smile. "Total narcissist." As Sam neared closer, carrying a whiny infant, Sebastian seemed to return to his usual self. "Besides, kids would cramp my style." He eyed the urchin as she reached for her father. "How old is this one?"

"Three months," Blaine supplied without having to think, tickling her tummy, trying to elicit a giggle.

"Uh huh. And when will it start being, y'know, useful? Clean up after itself, be your personal slave, that sort of thing?"

Sam's expression turned thunderous. "You're saying she's a burden?"

"Not again..." Blaine sighed. "Sam, he's just..." he struggled to find an apt description, "being Sebastian."

"Yeah, Ken. I'm just being me." Sebastian smirked. "Little Killer knows I'm just teasing, don't you, kiddo?' He ruffled her hair and she stared at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before bursting into tears. He leapt backwards, startling the dog at his feet, looking at Blaine in a panic. "I didn't mean to do that," he rushed to explain. "I mean, I was gentle. And my cousin loves it when I ruffle his hair. And, _oh god_, make it stop making that noise."

Sam laughed at him while Blaine bounced his daughter, making shushing sounds.

"I'll go get her bottle," Sam volunteered when the crying failed to abate.

"Actually," Blaine said, thinking out loud, "I should get her pacifier. Sam, wait up!" He turned back to Sebastian and transferred Emily into the taller boy's arms before the Warbler had even realised it was happening. "I'll be right back!"

"Don't you _dare_! Don't..._Blaine_!" Sebastian glared after the curly-haired boy, awkwardly holding the crying infant. He met her scrunched up expression with one of his own. "Yeah, I like this about as much as you do, kid." She only howled louder, earning him a bemused look from some joggers as they passed by. "I'm going to _end_ you, Blaine Anderson!"

-?-

The following weekend, Puck pulled his truck into the driveway of Hummel's Tyres & Lube, Blaine's car following a few moments later. They were dropping the truck off for an overdue service, and Blaine had plans to take advantage of a few baby free hours by going shopping for Christmas gifts (despite the fact that the Puckerman family were mostly-practicing Jews, they had all sat down and agreed to celebrate both Christmas and Hannuka for Emily's benefit) before dropping Puck back off to collect his truck again in the afternoon.

Burt emerged from the workshop in greasy overalls, wiping his hands on a towel that he slung over his shoulder. "Puckerman," he greeted, extending a clean hand to the boy.

Puck shook it, "Mister H."

Blaine extended his hand. "Mister Hummel."

"Blaine," Burt took Blaine's hand but surprised him by pulling him in for a brief hug, thumping him on the back twice before releasing him. "How are you doing, kid?"

"Um, pretty good." Blaine's smile was a little forced, recalling all too vividly his last meeting with Burt Hummel. He supposed things would never be truly relaxed between them again.

"What about the baby? You didn't bring her along for a visit?"

"Oh, I, uh, Em's fine, but...I, umm, I didn't think-"

"He thought it might still be awkward," Puck supplied, sidling up beside his boyfriend and wrapping his arm around Blaine's shoulders. "And we're gonna take the chance to hit up the mall without her pram holding us up. You know, get in our shopping before the Christmas rush."

Burt nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "I get it," he said. "But some day soon you're gonna bring her over, okay? You're still important to Carole and I. Both of you boys." He'd heard from Kurt -passed on from Rachel, who had learned via her fathers- that Blaine had recently had a rough couple of weeks. And despite what had happened with Kurt, Burt still felt that Blaine needed a father figure to guide him through some of the harder moments in the path he'd chosen. Not knowing a whole lot about the bond that the boy had formed with Rachel's parents, Burt had come to the conclusion that it fell to him to take on that role. So that meant trying to bury the tension between them. "So, even with what happened with Kurt, I'm still here for you. Understood?"

The teens nodded, Puck's grip on Blaine tightening only marginally at the mention of the shorter boy's ex. "How is Kurt?" He asked Burt, keeping his tone light, ignoring the incredulous stare Blaine shot him.

Burt's gaze darted between the teens in front of him. Puck was trying to act as though the mention of Kurt didn't faze him, but Burt could see the tension in his shoulders and jaw. Coupled with the possessive hold he had on Blaine, Noah Puckerman was so busted. "He's doin' good. Comin' home next week for Thanksgiving, same as Finn. They're looking forward to a New Directions reunion, from what I hear."

"What reunion?" Puck asked with a frown. "I haven't heard anything about a reunion."

Blaine cleared his throat and shot his affronted boyfriend a look that said _'Seriously, Puck?' _Puck, for his part, had the good sense to grin sheepishly and duck his head, murmuring an apology. Burt watched the exchange with the ghost of an amused smirk playing at his lips.

"Well," Blaine said awkwardly, "You tell Kurt I said hi, okay?"

"Okay," Burt agreed with a nod, knowing not to push the issue. He hoped that one day the boys could be friends again, but it was obvious that Blaine had moved on (just like Kurt had done when he'd left for New York), and pushing them into resolving their issues might actually make things worse.

Besides, Burt realised, it honestly wasn't his place to meddle. Kurt seemed happy, even when Blaine's name came up in conversation, so he couldn't really find any fault in the way things currently were between the pair.

-?-

Thanksgiving arrived before Blaine could blink, and with it came the knowledge that his newfound family was insane. Cooper had turned up on the Puckerman doorstep early in the morning, demanding cuddles from his favourite (only) niece and glaring at Puck across the kitchen table during breakfast. Then the Berry men had phoned, confirming that the entire Anderson-Puckerman family (including Cooper) were going to be attending Thanksgiving dinner at their house.

Bekah had thrown a tantrum of epic proportions when Ruth had demanded she get dressed up until Blaine promised that she could choose a matching outfit for Emily to wear. Then Puck had groaned about having to wear his best dress shirt and slacks, but Blaine had pulled him aside and whispered into his ear just how attractive he found a man in formal wear and (with an additional promise to demonstrate later) Puck was appeased quickly enough.

In short it was bedlam, but Blaine had never been happier.

At the Berry residence, Rachel threw the door wide open with a squeal, bypassing Blaine and stealing Emily from Cooper before anyone could even blink. "Oh my goodness," she gushed, gesturing for her guests to head inside, "Blaine, she's _gorgeous_. Naturally, I could see that in all the photos you've sent me, but they just can't compare to holding her in person. She's much bigger than I anticipated, too."

"She's perfectly normal, Rach," Puck informed her, pecking a light, friendly kiss to her cheek by way of greeting as they moved into the lounge room. "Her doc says she's in the ninety-eighth percentile in development for her age."

Blaine sent him a look of adoration. He loved it when Puck channelled his inner doting daddy (which was more often than not, really). And when he did it dressed in a crisp white business shirt, slacks and a tie? It was all Blaine could do to restrain himself from dragging Puck into the nearest bedroom and having his way with him.

Rachel continued to coo at Emily until Hiram pulled rank and demanded that he get to cuddle the little girl next. "Fine," the songstress acquiesced. "Blaine and I should indulge in a Sister to Brother chat, anyway."

"Sister? Wait, wha-?"

"Blaine, seriously you need to keep up."

Rachel looked up to sudden quiet and was met with Blaine's confused expression. She sighed, trying not to show how put upon she was in trying to explain the obvious. "Were you being insincere when you told my dads that you think of them as Emily Rose's grandfathers?"

That snapped Blaine out of his, admittedly adorable, stupor. "Wha-what? Of course not!"

Rachel rolled her eyes, giving Puck a look as if to say _'Do you see what I'm working with here?'_. "Well if they are Emily Rose's grandparents that makes me her aunt, doesn't it?" She asked slowly, breaking it down like one might to a small child. Honestly, Rachel had assumed that being gay might have cured Blaine from being such, well, such a _boy_. Clearly she'd been wrong.

She smiled when Blaine nodded. "So if she's my niece, and _you_ look at _my_ dads like they're parental figures for _you_, then that makes _me_ your sister!" When he blinked at her, she huffed and folded her arms across her chest. "I swear Blaine, it's like I'm talking to _Finn_ right now!"

He sputtered, still trying to formulate a response and she grabbed his hand, dragging him upstairs in the direction of her room. "Now, Brody and I found this cute little shop in the village that had the most _adorable_ little hats, so of course I purchased _twenty_..."

"Rachel, she's three and a half months old! What is she going to need _twentyhats_ for?"

"Every moment is one for fashion," she told him, parroting Kurt, which he chose to pointedly ignore.

"But...fourteen _weeks_ old, Rachel."

Puck's laughter followed them up the stairs.

-?-

Later that night, once the dinner dishes had been cleared, and after stuffing themselves on two servings of pie, the Anderson-Puckerman clan had pried themselves away from the Berrys and headed home. Cooper lifted a sleeping Bekah out of the car and carried her up to her room, Blaine doing much the same with Emily. Puck grabbed his mother's wrist before they entered the house.

"Hold up, Ma," he said, frowning when her expression morphed into one of worry.

"What's wrong, Noah?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you. 'Cos it's Thanksgiving and I didn't really get to say what I was thankful for."

Expression softening, she reached up and stroked his cheek, pleased to have her boy back to his sweet, unguarded self. "You said you were thankful for Blaine and Emily. Rachel made you repeat yourself while she filmed it, remember? It was sweet."

"Not when she asked me to try a third time using 'more inflection'," he groused, before shaking his head. "So not the point. I mean, yeah, I am thankful for them, but I wouldn't have them without you. I've been a pretty shi...er..._bad _son and you've stuck by me through all of it. When everyone found out that I knocked Quinn up and Finn kicked her out, you took her in, even though I know you kind of hated her. You did that for me, for Beth, and you never complained. Then you let Blaine and Em stay, even knowing how I felt about him. _Especially _knowing how I felt." He cleared his throat, finding that voicing the thoughts he'd had those couple of weeks previous was just as emotionally wearing now as it had been when he'd broken down and she'd cuffed him. "I can't think of any other moms who would do all that for their son, especially when he'd never been that great a kid."

"You're a good boy, Noah, and you've grown into a fine young man. You and Bekah, you're my children. I'll do anything for you. I think you understand that now, don't you?"

He did. Regardless of the situation, he would always stand by his kids, Beth and Emily both. They were family, but, more than that, they were his children; people that he had brought into the world (in Beth's case, anyway, though he felt no differently -emotionally or psychologically- about Emily) and made a lifetime commitment to, and he would love them no matter what.

As Puck watched his mother walk inside the house he knew what he had to do. He had to call Shelby. This 'one Skype call a month' business was going to change.

-?-

The rest of Thanksgiving break went by without drama, Blaine sticking to either his brother or boyfriend at any given time, attempting to prevent an inevitable confrontation by allowing them time alone. Sam, when he had visited during the weekend, had thought it hilarious and had pointed it out within earshot of the elder Anderson sibling, earning himself a glower to rival the ones being sent to Puck. Sam had then rolled his eyes when he'd noticed, and stated in a voice intended to be heard that Puck and Blaine made an awesome couple, antagonising Cooper further. But, with both Blaine and Ruth in the room, the actor had pasted on his best show smile and nodded his agreement.

Then Monday had arrived, which meant that Blaine and Sam returned to school, Emily to daycare, and Puck to work. Cooper was leaving for LA later that night, and found that this arrangement suited his plans rather nicely.

After the final school bell had rung for the day, Puck settled himself at Shannon's desk, ready to catch up on the mountain of paperwork he'd procrastinated about for the last few weeks. Blaine was going to be at work, and Emily was staying at daycare and then with Hiram until Leroy and Blaine finished for the day, which left his afternoon open without distraction. Puck had just settled in to a stack of player profiles when a pair of boxing gloves landed on the desk in front of him. He looked up, caught somewhere between confused and annoyed.

Standing in his office was the one and only Cooper Anderson. Puck sighed; he should have expected something like this. He'd known that the older man's silence over the break had been uncharacteristically restrained. He'd expected a verbal lashing: to be told that he'd hurt Blaine and wasn't good enough for him (things that Puck was already well aware of), but when that hadn't happened, Puck had assumed that he might have backed off and just respected Blaine's choices.

_'Obviously not.' _Puck mused, glancing back down at the gloves on his desk. _'Seriously?'_

Honestly, he'd been kind of dismissive of Blaine's brother. Cooper wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and Puck had thought that, despite his obviously ripped body, Cooper was bit of a cream puff. The only reason the guy had any muscular definition was because of vanity, not because he does anything remotely physical.

But right then, with that serious and somewhat intimidating expression on his face, Puck was willing to concede that maybe Cooper wasn't that much of a cream puff after all.

"Lace up." The man said, tone icy. "Be on the floor in five. I already cleared it with your boss." Cooper didn't hang around to see if Puck would follow the instructions and, as he left, Puck finally noticed that he was wearing nothing more than a form-fitting muscle tee and worn sweats.

Swallowing over the sudden lump in his throat, Puck lifted up one of the gloves. He cast another look in the direction Cooper had left. He had Fight Club experience... It couldn't be that bad, right? Cream puff, right?

Having switched to his own gym attire (which he kept in Shannon's office for after school use of the gym), Puck walked out onto the training mats, pulling on his gloves. "You sure about this, dude?" He asked cockily to mask his anxiety. "Cos if I give you back to Blaine all broken, he's gonna have my ass. And not in a good way."

Cooper didn't respond to the goading, standing stoic and somber, waiting for Puck to man up and front him.

This only increased Puck's worry. "Okay," he sighed, still full of bluster. "Just so you know, I'm a card carrying member of the Fight Club here," and he was so hoping that none of the other members were lurking around to hear him break the number one rule, "and I won't go easy on you just 'cause I love your brother."

Cooper continued to stare him down.

"Okay, so, let's do this. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Twenty minutes later found Puck curled up in a ball on the mat, feeling bruises forming in places that he hadnt even known existed. His sides ached, he was winded, and he was relatively certain that he'd lost a good portion of his memories from early childhood. As he sprawled out with a groan, panting with exertion, his mind could only focus on one thing; cream puffs could hit really, really hard.

From somewhere above him, Cooper finally spoke. "Trained in muay thai and kickboxing for six months for a movie. Movie didn't take off but I kept it up." Puck finally focused hard enough to see a pair of feet enter his line of vision. "I trust we won't need to have a repeat of this '_conversation'_ again, right Puck?"

Puck attempted to nod, despite the fact that he thought his head might fall off, and said yes. Well, he thought he said yes. The sound that came out of his mouth was more a gurgled moan, possibly a "waaarrrggghh".

"Come on," Cooper said in his normal tone, taking pity on the guy and pulling Puck back up to his feet with surprising ease. "Let's get you some ice."

"When I tell this story," Puck said as he limped along next to his decidedly badass brother-in-law, whose strong arm around his waist was the sole reason he was staying upright, "I gave worse than I got, okay?"

"Sure thing tough guy," Cooper allowed with a wry smirk, "Wouldn't want your rep to suffer in your Fight Club tea parties."

"Dude, when I can wiggle my toes again, I'm so gonna take you down."

"Whatever you say, kid. Lets just get you cleaned up and hopefully Blaine won't notice that shiner developing until after I'm back in LA."

Later, when Blaine got home and caught Cooper assisting Puck out of his truck, he wanted to beat _both _their asses into next week. He was flattered that both men had clearly fought for his honour, but, seriously? Was it really necessary? Hadn't he had the 'violence isn't the right choice' discussion with _both _men over the last few months? He understood macho posturing as much as the next guy (because he _was _still a teenage boy, and he still wanted to attend Fight Club nights despite the fact that he, for obvious reasons, didn't anymore), but there was a time when you had to weigh up your responsibilities against everything else.

But Puck and Cooper seemed at ease with each other now, as though they'd proven exactly what they needed to to one another. Cooper had clearly proven that he _would _follow through on protecting his brother, and Puck had proven that he'd withstand any beating Cooper threw at him because he wasn't going anywhere.

So, instead of letting loose a tirade of indignation, Blaine rolled his eyes at them. "Got it out of your systems now?"

"Yep," Cooper smiled at Blaine. "We're all good."

Blaine shook his head and gave his beaten boyfriend the once over, wincing at some of the visible bruising. He wondered how it was that he'd come out of the exchange so battered; he'd seen Puck fight, the guy wasn't exactly a rookie in the ring. Maybe he'd pulled his punches out of some misplaced sense of guilt? Blaine could only postulate, because no way would Puck ever tell him the truth. He understood the macho code well enough. Noticing the swelling to Puck's nose, and the purplish tint of the skin around his left eye, Blaine spun and socked Cooper in the arm that wasn't holding Puck up.

"_Ow_!" Cooper exclaimed more in surprise than in pain, giving Blaine a betrayed and wounded look. He wanted to rub his arm where Blaine punched him but he was still the only thing keeping Puck upright. "What was that for?"

"I love you for sticking up for me Coop," Blaine told him seriously, keeping a stoic mask, before breaking into a small smile. "But not the face." Not only was it the second rule of their Fight Club, but Puck was gorgeous. It was, like, a cardinal sin to mar that. "_Never_ the face."

Cooper nodded, catching Puck's gaze as he transferred the guy's weight over to his brother, "You know, Bee," he said, "I really don't think it's going to be an issue again."

**A/N - The End. Epilogue to follow. Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - And this is it. The epilogue. I want to cry. I don't want to let my babies go... Sigh. I had so much fun writing this last piece. Once again, Loki, thanks for your help.**

**To everyone else who has followed and reviewed, I do hope you enjoy.  
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On Blaine's Eighteenth birthday he received his inheritance from his Grandfather. He'd been shocked to find that, though there was very little by way of money, the man had left him an enormous (but dilapidated) house in Los Angeles, his estate covering the rates and city charges until Blaine would be able to move in after college, should he decide to keep the property. Leaving Emily with Ruth for a weekend, Puck, Sam and Blaine flew out to the city, meeting Cooper there, to check out the state of the house and decide what to do with it. In the end, though Blaine had debated selling it, he decided that his Grandfather had wanted him to live in a nice neighbourhood, and that the money he'd get from it wouldn't buy them anything even close to the potential that this had.

When Blaine was accepted into college in Boston, Sam offered to go ahead to L.A. after graduation and spend the next few years living in the house rent free, fixing it up himself while his friends went to college. He didn't see himself following any academic pursuits, wanting, instead, to settle down in the big city and see where life took him. Blaine and Puck agreed, going as far as to say that, because it was such a large house, Sam could stay there even after they finally moved in. He was their closest friend and one of Emily's uncles anyway, and it wouldn't be right to kick him out if he'd done most of the hard labour making the house liveable in their absence.

Five years later found Blaine and Puck in Los Angeles, both college graduates. Blaine had been ecstatic to get into Berklee College of Music in Boston, studying a Degree in Contemporary Writing and Production. It had been his first choice in colleges, and he'd done as he'd sworn to do; working his ass off to gain admittance, his personal essay, demo cd and audition securing him a partial scholarship. Puck had, once he'd started at OSU Lima, studied harder than he'd ever imagined possible, determined to get enough credit points to secure a transfer to a college near Blaine. His hard work paid off, his first semester's GPA allowing him to pursue a similar degree in Physical Education at UMass Boston, and he'd been surprised to find a small grant awarded to him, too, thanks to his essay (which had, unsurprisingly, detailed his shift from troubled kid to hopeful mentor of teens in a similar position, citing Shannon as his inspiration and Blaine and Emily as his motivation).

When Blaine finally held his diploma in his hand, he and Puck started applying for jobs in L.A. Not knowing exactly what he wanted to do, Blaine sent off his résumé and portfolio to every facet of the entertainment world that he could think of, from advertising houses to record companies and film studios.

Puck had been the first to land a job, teaching math and coaching football at a Junior High on the outskirts of Los Angeles. It was only part time, though, so he soon found himself working alongside Sam on his off days, doing construction, working as a session guitarist, cleaning pools, the list continued. Any opportunity that came along he took it, not wanting to eat into Blaine's inheritance any more than they already had during their college years.

After two months of relentless canvassing, Blaine's struggles paid off and he found himself employed by an advertising company that wrote and produced jingles for radio and tv. It wasn't much, but it was a start, and the extra income provided them money to occasionally spoil Beth and Emily. Sam even found a few jobs through him, providing hilarious vocal impersonations whenever a client required it.

They'd been living in L.A for six months when Blaine received his first promotion. He was given his own client and tasked with writing and producing a selection of jingles for their new campaign, a vocal artist already selected via online audition by his boss. The lyrics and music flowed out of him with ease, and Puck laughed when Blaine exclaimed that it all seemed too easy.

"Babe, you're over-thinking this." He said from his position on the couch. "You're good at your job. Don't stress so much."

Emily nodded enthusiastically, prone as she was to always follow Puck's lead. "Yeah, Daddy," she said in a no nonsense tone, "Don't stress so much." She was still having issues with her 'r's occasionally being pronounced like 'w's, making the word 'stressed' absolutely adorable. Then again, her fathers -and Uncles- thought _everything_ she said was adorable.

"Well, in that case, I know just the thing to stop me from stressing." Setting aside his pen and sheet music, Blaine got up from the table and chased her down the hall, declaring a tickle war, her shrieks of laughter echoing through the house. Puck groaned and shook his head. It was going to be hell getting her to sleep now that Blaine had her all worked up.

He blinked. Since when was he the responsible one?

Shoving his grade book onto the coffee table, Puck ambled after his family, intent on joining in the fun.

-?-

The next Friday found Blaine pacing outside the recording studio, waiting on the actor his boss had hired. He knew nothing about the guy, not even the key he sang in, which was going to take a toll on their schedule. The man was running late, which, Blaine had found, was pretty typical in this line of work, and Blaine checked his watch for the fifth time.

Beth was staying with them this weekend as part of the deal Noah had wrangled with Shelby all those years prior, and Blaine had wanted to get off work early to maximise his time with the other little lady in his life. He'd been so worried that he wouldn't be as attached to Beth as Noah was to Emily, but he needn't have been concerned. Shelby had brought her over to spend that first Christmas with the Puckerman brood and the toddler had latched onto him like he was her new best friend, and he'd fallen in love with her wide hazel-green eyes and sandy coloured ringlets. Ever since then, he and Puck had taken the little girl for occassional weekends, and sometimes Shelby would stay with them over school breaks, so Puck's daughters could bond properly. It was an odd situation, but one that worked for them.

Of course, it looked as though Blaine wasn't going to get the extra few hours with his second daughter that he'd hoped for, so he pulled out his phone and reluctantly fired off an apologetic text to his boyfriend, hoping that he'd understand.

"Hi, I'm _so_ sorry I'm late. My flight was delayed and then..._Blaine_?" Kurt pulled up short at the sight of his first boyfriend, a man he'd not seen in the flesh in years.

Blaine looked up from his phone, almost frozen in shock. It looked as though Murphy was up to his old tricks again because, of _all_ the actors in the nation, his ex boyfriend was standing down the hall from him, a frown on his face. "Kurt?" He asked, though it was pointless. He'd recognise that voice, that gait, that face anywhere. "Oh my God." The years had been kind to Kurt, it appeared. He was still tall and willowy, but his shoulders were broader, his thighs -still encased in jeans that looked painted on- thicker and more masculine. He'd probably been hitting the gym. "You...you look great."

Kurt was doing his own appraisal, scanning Blaine up and down without shame. Blaine had also filled out with age, his biceps and chest more pronounced in a skin-tight polo than Kurt could ever recall. Gone was the gelled helmet of hair, the curls now cropped short and lightly styled with product, a pair of squared glasses bringing his attention directly to the golden-brown eyes he'd known so well. "As do you," he replied, smiling warmly, their negative history seemingly forgotten in the surprise of the moment.

Blaine ducked his head, thanking Kurt, before realising that they had a job to do. He cleared his throat and gestured for the other man to head into the studio. At least, he mused, he knew Kurt's vocal range.

Three hours later and Blaine was satisfied with the three different recordings they'd completed. He'd run them through a few filters and some final edits once he got them home. Leaning forward over the console, he switched on the mic that fed into the studio. "And that's a wrap," he declared. "Thanks. Good work, Kurt."

The other man removed his headphones gingerly -as obsessed with his coiffed hair as ever- and grinned through the glass, winking. "Did you expect any less?"

Blaine sat back in his seat. Was Kurt seriously flirting with him? Blaine couldn't find it anything beyond awkward. He eventually settled on saying: "You still sound the same." Yeah, it was lame, but what else could he say?

Kurt placed the headphones back over the mic stand and gestured to the hall. "Meet you out there? I'd love to buy you a coffee."

Blaine checked his phone and sighed. This was definitely the sort of thing Noah would want to know about. He fired off another text and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

At Blaine's favourite cafe they sat across from each other in strained silence.

"So, you're still a medium drip kinda guy," Kurt said, trying for casual conversation.

Blaine nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, sort of appreciating the effort. "Yeah."

More silence. Blaine fiddled with a napkin, tearing at the edges.

"How...uh...how's your daughter?" Kurt asked, before sitting back in his own seat. "Wow. Sorry. It's still strange to say."

Blaine smiled genuinely, brightening at just the thought of Emily, ignoring the awkward statement that had followed Kurt's question because he understood the sentiment. "She's great. She's Five now. Starting school next year. I don't know where the time went. It was like I blinked somewhere around potty training and then suddenly, _bam_! She's this well spoken, grown up little girl instead of the toddler I was just looking at." He reached for his phone. "Want to see a photo?"

Kurt nodded and soon enough he was looking at a still image of a beautiful little girl with a mass of dark, curly hair and Blaine's impish grin. "She's beautiful, Blaine."

"Yeah, she really is."

Ice finally broken, Kurt leant forward. "I've missed you, you know. I should have sucked it up and called."

Blaine shook his head. "Water under the bridge. We were still kinda kids, Kurt. You had the right to be upset. I could have called you if I'd wanted. Believe me, I get that life gets in the way sometimes. I don't want to rehash old issues. Was I hurt then? Sure. But we weren't together, and we weren't really talking anyway." He shrugged. "Are you happy, Kurt? That's kind of what's important. I am. Happy, I mean."

Kurt blinked and pasted on a smile to match his ex's. "Of course I'm happy. I'm a paid actor, Blaine. I'm based in New York, I've just done an Off-Broadway run of Rent...Things are just the way I wanted them to be." Except he'd wanted to be in love, too. But he was still young, and this looked like a chance to mend the mistake he'd made when he'd dumped Blaine because a long-distance relationship had been too daunting.

Blaine took Kurt's words at face value, grinning enthusiastically. "That's great, Kurt. I'm glad to hear it."

Before Kurt could reply, a little voice shouted "Daddy!" and a blur of curly hair raced past him and flew into Blaine's lap, peppering him with kisses, ignorant of the two other frustrated voices calling after her.

Kurt was startled when he discovered who the voices belonged to.

A taller, slim girl came rushing up to the table, sandy coloured hair held in a high ponytail, accentuating a face that resembled Quinn Fabray too much to be a coincidence, though the nose and eyes were all wrong. "Sorry, Daddy Bee," she said as she reached them. "We told Em not to run away from us. Daddy says it's not safe to take off on our own in the city."

Kurt blinked owlishly at the way she addressed Blaine. _Daddy_ _Bee_? Before he could introduce himself, a familiar pair of biceps were in his field of vision, lifting Emily out of Blaine's lap.

"Emily Rose Anderson," Puck began, propping the girl on his hip as easily as he might have done when she was half the size, "What are the rules when we go out anywhere?"

Her lower lip trembled and she turned wet eyes on Blaine, who shook his head. "Don't look at me, Em. You know better." When her lip continued to tremble, he sighed. "What are the rules there for?"

"Keep us safe." She recited, tone sullen.

"Exactly," Noah interjected. "What were you supposed to do?"

"Hold Beth's hand and walk with you."

"Yep. And what did you do?"

She pouted, a stray tear working its way down her cheek. "I saw Daddy!" She protested. "He wasn't far away. And you were watching me!"

Noah brought his thumb to her face tenderly. "Drop the crocodile tears, Em. You know they don't work on us. And you know that you were naughty."

Next to him, Beth nodded up at her sister, a smug Fabray smile on her face, the workings of a taunting comment obviously on her lips. Before she could speak, Blaine pulled her into his lap, her legs dangling over his knees. "You've done the same thing before, Missy," he reminded her quietly. "There's no need to tease your sister. You don't really want to fight with her, do you? You want to be a good big sister. A great role model." She was used to this lecture.

Beth looked suitably admonished and nodded. "Sorry Daddy," she said, looping an arm around his neck.

He grinned and kissed her cheek. "You're a good girl, Beth."

Kurt cleared his throat, startling the family unit out of their oh-so-domestic moment.

"Who are you?" Beth asked, causing Puck to groan.

"Manners, Beth. Honestly."

She sighed dramatically. "Sorry," turning back to Kurt she cocked her head to the side. "I'm Beth," she told him, "Who are you, Mister?"

Blaine hid his smile behind her hair while Noah put Emily down long enough to pull up a chair for himself, muttering about teaching his kids some tact. Emily was back in his lap within moments, also staring at the stranger.

"My name's Kurt," the actor replied awkwardly, not used to children. "I, uh, I'm an old friend of your Dad." He looked between the two men, each holding the other's biological daughter contentedly, like this was a regular position for them. "Dads."

Not used to being ignored by anyone, the dark haired girl stuck her hand out at him, mimicking the move she'd seen her fathers do countless times. "I'm Emily," she told him, frowning when he just stared at her, "You're s'posed to shake my hand now, Mister Kurt."

Blaine couldn't contain his snort of amusement, especially when Puck looked at him in exasperation. "She gets that from you," Puck told him. "Total drama queen."

Blaine rolled his eyes, watching as Kurt shook his daughter's hand, an expression reminiscent of Sebastian ghosting across his face. Kurt looked back at him, fleetingly wounded. "I didn't realise...you and Puck? How? _When_? Because, well..." He glanced at Puck, mindful of the two sets of little ears listening to him avidly. "You, uh, you liked women. A lot."

"It was a little right after you...guys broke up," Puck saw that only Hummel noticed how he shifted his statement to be less accusatory. He smirked at him to let him know that he did it for Blaine's sake but he was more than happy to swoop in when Hummel foolishly decided to let Blaine go. The slight tightening around Kurt's mouth and eyes made it clear to Puck that the message was received. "And yeah, I did. But it turns out I like Blaine more."

"Yup," Emily piped up, well versed in the story of how her parents fell in love. Her Uncles told it to her all the time. She particularly liked it when Uncle Seb told it, 'cause Uncle Sammy would always get mad and correct him. "My daddies have loved each other ever since I was a baby." She gestured with her hands, indicating how small she must have been. "Then they lived happily ever after." She cast Blaine a sly look. "And they bought me a pony. The end."

"You're not getting a pony, munchkin." Blaine refuted, shifting Beth from his lap and making move to stand, Puck following suit. "But the rest is all right."

* * *

**A/N - ****I'm loathe to say that this is the end for our boys and their girl, so, instead, I'm just going to say that this particular fic is complete. *grin***


End file.
